Dragos Koranyi Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas

Dragos Koranyi From the Journal of Dragos Koranyi Day 7251, off the coast of Eastern Karneia. If there is one thing I have learned from a lifetime of running, it is that every man is running from something. As I look at those words, written in a spacious guest cabin aboard the Condor Class Flagship Katerina Bel under the latest of half a hundred false names, I realize that there may be some small amount of self-serving interpretation in them. Regardless, however, whether from self-defence or a keen insight into the sentient mind, I stand by those words… Everyone is running from something. Seldom are those things hunting them with blood in their eyes. But, we all have our own little burdens to bear.

I have been sailing these Uncharted Seas for over a decade, and still they never fail to surprise me. Sailing with captain Garrik Arkos has been nerve-wracking, despite the man’s friendly and open personality. I have not taken passage aboard an Imperial ship

for years, and the fact that Garrik is a direct member of the Arkos family, no matter how distant, has grated upon my nerves these last several months. Why did it have to be the Arkos? There is every possibility the good captain and I met once, during some trade delegation or state fete within the walls of Arkruden. That would have been many years ago, and we both were much younger men. Still, the possibility makes me uneasy. Here in the New World, where every captain sees himself as the hero of a new saga unfolding, where every first mate sees himself as a captain in the making, and where every leaky bark dreams of one day ruling the Broad Blue, there is one man who is welcome everywhere. One man who blends in wherever he goes, who is always free to come and go as he pleases, through any battle lines, among any factions: The Chronicler. Every man sailing the Uncharted Seas wishes to have his deeds and words immortalised in writing. No-one is immune to the siren’s call of fame, even the mighty Dragon Lords themselves. And so when I saw that my only real option was to flee to this strange new land and it’s mysterious waters, I knew there was only one mask I could wear that would allow me the freedom of movement I would need to survive. When I first began to wander the New World, masking my true identity behind that of an itinerant chronicler, I was forever in awe of the multifarious races, factions, and communities that were spread over hundreds of islands and the larger continental land masses. Nothing in the Old World could prepare a newcomer for the sheer cosmopolitan spread of civilisation. The fact that humans are so prevalent here, as servants to his sublime and absentee Imperial worship, Overlord Saranic himself and other, stranger powers, made it easy for me to blend in. Because most humans here are in reality Subasha – willing slaves to the mysterious and seldom-seen Dragon Lords, who claim to rule over most of the region – making one’s way through the world here as a human is probably easier than back in the Old World. But my mind wanders. Where was I? Ah, yes. Every man is fleeing something. Goodhearted Garrik is clearly fleeing his more powerful and power-hungry relatives back in the Imperial City, hiding here on the new frontier. You can see it in his face whenever an Imperial ship approaches. Here, far from the Overlord’s grasping reach, deep in the rebellious holdings of the Tepes, he still fears some word from civilisation, and I can only imagine what that is. Lately, however, my reflections have been darkened by more ominous happenings much closer to hand. A series of unexplained raids have struck a number of human settlements along the outskirts of Tepes territory. Most of these villages are far from the common shipping routes and naval watch stations, and their destruction has come as a great surprise to the Tepes commanders in the area. From reports Garrik has received and allowed me to read it is clear that the attacks have been brutal and savage. No survivors have been found, and each village has been sacked and burned, leaving nothing of even the most remote value behind. Rumours abound of attacks falling upon the territory of other factions as well, including a particularly brutal attack upon a Dragon Lords village whose funeral pyre sent a thick column of greasy smoke high into the clear blue sky that hovered for days after the assault. I have to assume that most of the other commanders are going to be reacting in much the same way as the Tepes, and the region around the attacks will soon host countless angry naval units, their captains eager to solve the mystery and spill reaver blood.

But something I believe they have not thought through; if they should meet each other upon the waves, who’s to tell the reaver from the revenge-seeker? None of the men I have spoken to, even Garrik with his smiles and absent-minded ways, seem inclined to speech and discourse over the matter. I know that when the human squadrons encounter another force in their search for the attackers, the bark of their guns will be the first resort. Garrik has told me that he means to send a small force into the unmapped region bordering the decimated settlements before sending his heavier units. I have spoken with him at some length concerning the tales we have heard, of other forces that may be sailing into the same region, on the same mission, but without recourse to communication may believe his men to be the very pirates they seek. But he is under pressure from the Imperial Court far away, and by the council of Tepes that clandestinely rule over most Imperial subjects closer to home. These attacks need to stop, and vengeance needs to be exacted at once, lest others begin to think the Imperial Humans weak, and unwilling to defend their newly-won territory. At dinner last night Garrik spoke of sending a small force of frigates and cruisers into the unknown region. A force large enough to handle any small force they might encounter, but fast enough to flee should the need arise. Through the porthole of my cabin I can hear them preparing to embark, and a familiar stirring moves my heart. It may be time for me to move on again. Perhaps, if I ask nicely, Garrik will allow me to take ship upon the command cruiser, and I might be able to watch this next phase of human history upon these Uncharted Seas unfold before my very eyes.

It is a delicate time for us Humans here as we carve a new place for ourselves. Surrounded by advanced, sophisticated new races as well as our old nemeses from the Old World, we must struggle to establish ourselves or risk being subjugated in our own turn; relegated to the role of willing slave just as so many of the native humans are. I can see in this developing situation a cauldron into which we might be lost forever, if we venture forward without every precaution. Some force out over the misty waves has departed the paths of civilized beings and is massacring innocents and harvesting the fruits of their labours. Some unknown power has declared war on the human settlements and those of other factions and races. The entire area will be filled with angry and fearful men seeking to strike a blow against the mysterious, hidden enemy. And how are we to know the foe when we see him? Everyone in the fleet speaks of the dreaded Dragon Lords and their lost city. There can be no doubt that these ancient rulers of this land will be scouring the seas with bloody intent. But there have also been rumours of the haughty and proud Thaniras Elves of the Old World, come much the same as we, to wrest lands of resources from the New World. Whispered tales tell of one of their hidden redoubts as the scene of something as terrible as a reaving, and if these adventure-seeking mariners are at all similar to their Old World steppemen cousins, then high will be the price they exact for that outrage.

Some even speak of the dreaded newcomers, the enormous ships of the Ralgard. In all my vast experience in the New World I have yet to encounter one of the huge humanoids. They are said to be excessively tall and broad, with blunted features and cunning eyes. What they may be seeking no one seems to know. They have apparently made no attempts to communicate with any other races, and have as yet established no settlements as far as I have heard. However, they have constructed several military outposts, stark and utilitarian in nature, and if one of those has been descended upon by these attackers, then you may count them, too, amongst those Garrik’s squadrons may encounter. Or these attackers could be Ralgard, in fact. That is the true danger of our situation now, for there is no way to know who the enemy truly is. But for my part, as much as I would like to see my fellow man prosper in these new endeavours, every new trading post, naval station, or settlement increases my risk of discovery. It is a bittersweet observation, for me, to see my old countrymen spreading their influence and power across the waves of the New World, for with each hut or dock raised, my freedom is curtailed that much further. It’s definitely time for me to head off once again into the unknown. I’ll join Garrik’s squadron, see what I can see, and then maybe jump ship and chronicle for someone else for a while, see the world from a different pair of eyes, bearing a different name, perhaps. After all, we’re all running away from something.

Battle Report: Off The Shoulder Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Day 7257, Off the Shoulder of the Cauldron Curiosity, they say, has killed many a cat, and a man or two besides. I generally scoff at such platitudes, until moments such as this. I have been aboard the Kuraga Kumpano, Hawk Cruiser, and under the command of Captain Jaroslaw Jasomir for almost a week. Where old Garrik was friendly and personable, Jasomir has been quiet and brooding. New to the Uncharted Seas, he chomps at the bit to escape Imperial rule, even Garrik’s loose interpretation of it, to join the Tepes separatists down in Lostwithial. And yet the hunger for personal glory and distinction, and the promise of sailing into battle with a Chronicler aboard to record his daring exploits, has been more than enough to keep him focused on his lawfully designated orders. Still, his gloomy, single-minded dedication to duty makes for dull dinners in the officer’s mess. Leaving Jethosia and the collected Imperial fleet behind, we made west by south-west, stopping briefly beneath the imposing walls of the Kullorian Iron Dwarf city of El-Aron for resupply. Rumours of further incitement were running rampant along the extensive docks of the city, and we now know that settlements from almost every race and faction have been struck. The Iron Dwarves spoke of hunting packs of Thaniras Elves sweeping across the seas and sounds; we saw several before entering the area of the attacks.

The region, somewhere between Principia and Denonia, contains very little in the way of value to any intelligent seafarer. All around this empty zone there are colonies, and it is these settlements that have been the targets of the vicious attacks. It was the consensus of the Imperial tacticians, as well as the Iron Dwarves with which we spoke at El-Aron, that the attacks must be originating from somewhere within the dead zone that is now called The Cauldron of Silence. The Iron Dwarves saw us well-provisioned – none of the hide-bound games their Old World relatives would have imposed upon us – and bade us good hunting as we sailed out through the massive sea gates and into Vemyk Sound. Their warnings of savage Orc Raiders were ringing in our ears. Luckily, we did not see any as we made our way west. The Thaniras Elves approached, paced us long enough to ascertain that we were, in fact, Imperial squadrons, and quickly moved off on their own hunting expedition. Kuraga Kumpano was joined by her sister ship Petia’s Curse, forming a strong central squadron that would be the heavy hitters should Jasomir be forced to stand and fight. Ahead of him ranged a large squadron of Falcon Frigates, often almost lost from sight over the horizon ahead, eager for glory and vengeance. But the most fascinating squadron the intrepid Captain had brought with him were the four foul, stinking Martyr Frigates that he kept close beneath his lee at all times. Crewed by the most desperate scum of the Naval Prisons, the Martyrs are heavily laden with bales of powder and gun cotton, barrels of pitch and unstable naphtha. I had never before seen these ships in action, although I had encountered them in port from time to time. They reek of desperation and the death of hope, and these ships sailing along beside us were no different. As I understand it, the Martyr ships will, once battle has been joined, sail straight for their targets and then detonate themselves when they are deemed close enough to do serious damage. The vast majority of their crews will be killed in this exercise, blasted to their maker or immolated in the massive fireball that will mark their passing. However, those few who survive, either through luck or bad powder, are forgiven their past crimes and sins and allowed to rejoin the fleet, ostensibly with no black marks upon their records at all. I shudder to think of the depth of despair required for a man to enter into such a bargain, but in the end there is no telling what any man will do when his back is to the wall. Other than the Thaniras Elves a day or two back, we have encountered no other forces, and we have been in the Cauldron itself for more than a day. The winds have stayed with us and the skies have been clear, but with each passing hour I can feel the crew’s nerves fraying with unfulfilled expectations of violence. If we do not meet with an enemy soon, I fear for Jasomir’s ability to maintain discipline among his men. Day 7258, Within the Cauldron of Silence

Fig. 1 We approached the first island we have seen in three days with the giddy excitement of schoolboys given reprieve from some onerous lesson. It was some distance away when the mists cleared to reveal it, and the Falcons must have found it fascinating, for they were disappearing around the island’s shoulder even as we approached. Our focus was almost immediately pulled elsewhere, however, as we saw, emerging from the shadow of the island, two strange ships with back-swept, glistening sails. Roughly the size of Jasomir’s cruisers, the two ships were sweeping away towards the north while his frigates disappeared around the island’s southern tip. How the two squadrons had avoided each other we could not tell from this distance, but I had a strange, creeping feeling down my back. The strange cruisers looked low in the water, their lines stubby and blunted, with those strange sails swooping back over decks crowded with scurrying crew. It was clear they had not seen us through the thinning fog, and before they could make good their evasive manoeuvres, Captain Jasomir had his signalman issue the Martyrs the order they had spent every moment since being plucked from the Naval Prisons both anticipating and dreading. The fast little ships shot out from the shadow of the cruisers and their wakes were arrow straight as they made directly for the strange ships. “Um, Captain,” I was hesitant to interrupt a commander at the start of a battle, but “Captain, do we know if those people deserve to be blown to bits?” Jasomir looked at me with a disdain I felt sure he would never want me to include in a chronicle, his finely-shaped mustachios twisting. In a frigid voice he said “those, sir, are

Dragon Lord ships. They would fire their infernal ballistae upon us without warning.” He turned back to follow the progress of his odiferous charges in his dwarven-crafted glass. “They fully deserve what they are about to receive. Afterwards, we’ll take the survivors and find all we need about these pirates Arkos is so concerned with.” I wanted to ask him if he thought this would forward his personal mission, but I had seen the wall of a closed mind behind his eyes and decided not to waste my breath. Besides, I was fascinated by the drama occurring upon the decks of the little ships as they race to their doom. The larger Dragon Lord ships must have been Shadow Cruisers, although I had not sailed with the supposed lords of the New World in many years. The ships immediately began to move away from the island, trying to gain some headway on the pursuing frigates while clearing space between each other for manoeuvring and evasion. But the frigates were not trying to formulate a traditional attack plan. They were not trying to cross the larger ships’ Ts, or bring their broadsides to bear, or even bore in for a full-on boarding assault. Rather, the frigates had dispersed, each sailing in a course that would bracket the enemy ships before they could escape. Even knowing what I was watching for, when the final moment of immolation came, it surprised me, and horrified me a little, to know that men had done that to themselves. The first Martyr Frigate to reach the Dragon Lord Cruisers did not detonate at first, but rather sailed between the two ships, their intent crews too focused even to fire upon them. The others swept in on either side, with the final ship taking up a station in the rear. The first ship then detonated, and in rapid succession two others did the same, engulfing the enemy vessels in a growing ball of white fire. The fourth frigate did not explode, whether through a lack of fortitude or a failure of their powder we will never know, as they too were swallowed by the blast. Wreckage and burning rigging sailed high into the clearing sky to rain down upon the sea for hundreds of yards in every direction. When the smoke cleared the Dragon Lord Cruisers were alone, still afloat, but their sails hung in tatters, smoke from innumerable deck fires swirled before the wind, and great holes had been rent in their hulls.

Fig. 2 Behind the island we heard the crashes of hull on hull, muffled by distance and the intervening island. The frigates had found something on the other side and, by the sound of it, there had been a collision of some kind. It was impossible to tell what had happened, but I hoped the human crews were acquitting themselves well, as one third of our force had just expended itself upon the two cruisers before us, and to no discernible effect. Jasomir growled to see the enemy cruisers still afloat and ordered his squadron forward. There was no reserve now, and we were committed. Our fate would largely depend upon what was happening on the other side of the island. If the Dragon Lords had a large force hidden by the land, we were too close now to escape unscathed. Obviously, the Captain had decided to make his mark here. The Hawk Cruisers surged forward under full sail, sweeping to either side of the floundering Dragon Lords, and unleashed an unholy salvo with their broadsides. It was a daring move, as any balls that missed their targets could well connect with the Imperial hull on the other side. But it paid off, as there was no way for the enemy to escape the manoeuvre, and the iron balls flashed into the already riddled hulls of the Dragon Lord Cruisers, staggering them in their wakes. Fires erupted within the hulls of both ships and their crews were scrambling to work their ships and extinguish the fires at the same time. Over the crashes and the screams of combat I could discern a strange sound from behind the island, as if massive springs were releasing a great weight into a solid object with a

dull thud. I did not connect the sound with the massive ballistae on the opposing decks at the time, but that must have been what I was hearing.

Fig. 3 While I was clinging to the port side railing, trying to discern what was occurring behind the island, a savage cry rose up around me as the crew watched with rising incredulity as the two Dragon Lord captains, rather than attempt to escape, brought both their vessels sharply about, colliding with Petia’s Curse. With sickening crunches the two large ships slammed into the trapped cruiser, rigging and topmasts raining down on all three decks. The crews of the Dragon Lord ships poured onto the human cruiser, howling human Subasha for the most part, although in the smoke and fire it was hard to tell, and some seemed much larger than your average human. The battle was furious but short lived as the attackers had surprise on their side, and soon the surviving humans were diving over the side and desperately swimming to the Kuraga Kumpano for safety. Most of the crew was fixated, with angry eyes, upon their sister ship – in enemy hands and already beginning to pole off – when a cry from the topgallant crow’s nest directed our attention far off to aft. An Imperial Frigate appeared from around the island, and a cheer went up among the crewmen able to see her. The cheer faded rapidly, however, as we saw that the small ship was not coming around the island, but rather fleeing off to the south, making no effort at all to rejoin the fleet. The Captain howled with frustration, throwing his fur hat to the deck in anger. I feared I knew what was happening, and cast a quick glance to the deck of the Petia’s Curse, where servants of the Dragon Lords were even now making ready to move off with her as a prize.

The captured ship poled off from the Dragon Lord Cruisers, moving away from the entangled mess of the ramming ships and sheltering behind them to hide from the vengeance of the Kuraga Kumpano. Captain Jasomir rattled off a string of orders intermixed with saltier language. The cruiser shed small boats as it swung round, sails snapping overhead, and plunged between the two Dragon Lord Cruisers. Both broadsides roared out at point blank range while the bow chasers barked loudly, throwing heavy balls into the stern of her fleeing sister. Planking and railings were thrown into the air like matchsticks, but the Petia’s Curse did not falter in her headlong race for open water. Cannons opened fire from behind the island, and great plumes of smoke began to rise lazily into the clear sky. Closer to hand, the crew around me began to cheer as one of the Dragon Lord Cruisers began to show a marked list, it’s bow slowly pulling down and to starboard, dragging the ship out of the fight as it began to take on more and more water. Another of Jasomir’s frigates swept from behind the island, this time heading north, and again not stopping for the Captain’s frantic signals. “Captain, something bad is happening on the other side of the island… I think you should—“ Jasomir spun on me with angry eyes. “Something bad is happening on THIS side of the island, you idiot!” He flung one claw-like hand in the direction of the fleeing Hawk. “Do you think Arkos will be pleased that I lost one of his ships? I—“ I pointed at the disappearing frigate to the north-west. “You’re losing more than a single ship, captain, you’re—“ It was at that moment that the remaining surviving Dragon Lords Cruiser, rather than obliging us with a stern chase, came up into our wake, crossed behind us, and released a massive broadside with its ensorcelled ballistae. The staccato thrashing of the corded bands hitting their restraining bars, the magically-enhanced whistle of the incoming bolts, and the savage detonation of the spells woven into their barbed heads erupted in brilliant green flame as they raked through the lower decks of the Kuraga Kumpano. They were enough to stop my heart. Beneath my feet the deck lurched as supports and bulkheads were blasted away, and baleful green fire erupted from the gunports all along the port side as the entire gun deck was flooded with magical flame.

Fig. 4 “No!” Jasomir screamed, spit flecking his lips. “Come about! Load ball and grape! I want them all dead!” The ship heeled into the wind as the gun crews along the starboard side scrambled to load the new ordnance. The broadside stuttered and popped as each crew fired when ready, rather than in the disciplined roar that would have earned them the grudging approval of their foes. The result of the ball and grape upon the Dragon Lords Cruiser was disturbing, to say the least. The ship seemed to age as we watched, colour being washed from the hull as thousands of metal balls struck over and over. The sails rippled under the onslaught, tattering into the wind while the masts began to buckle and sag onto decks awash with the blood of willing slaves. Unfortunately, as the crew roared their approval of the slaughter, their sister ship, under the command of a Dragon Lord prize crew, continued to sail away, widening the gap to an insurmountable distance. The crazed captain scanned jerkily in all directions looking for a target upon which he could vent his anger, and for a moment his eyes, one twitching uncontrollably, came to rest on me. He took a breath to unleash some illconsidered words at my expense when motion caught my attention over his shoulder. I looked out over the churning waves with confusion imprinted so clearly upon my face that it stopped the Captain in his tracks, and he turned to see what I was looking at. From around the island a single Dragon Lords Frigate was limping towards us. Her sails were tattered, she was listing badly, but there could be no doubt that her bow was pointed directly amid ships to the large cruiser.

“Load again!” The Captain’s voice was hoarse with strain and emotion, but the death of the small craft was clearly written there. “I want that ship erased from the waves!” I looked again, more closely this time, at the approaching frigate. There was something about the ship, something about the rigging, that did not seem right, but I could not quite place the issue. Then— “Captain, I think the approaching ship is crewed by your men. Look with the glass. Is that not a white flag she flies from her mast?” The Jasomir snapped his glass open and angrily pushed it to his eye. He grunted once, and then took the glass away to look again with his naked eye. “Well, I’ll be damned . . .“ “It seems we are not the only ones to have a ship taken this day.” I was trying to put a brave face on the events, for it was nearly certain his command would be taken away from him unless the approaching ship contained far more information than I thought it would. Alas, I should have known better. “I’ve lost more than a ship, I think, Chronicler.” He pointed to the north, and then the south. “I’ve a feeling I’ll be bringing home two ships, and one not even my own.” The grim set of his mouth told me he completely understood the situation he found himself in. Returning to a commander that was also a political rival, even if one so innocuous as Garrik, in defeat was no easy thing to do. It would most likely mark the end of his naval career, at the very least. “Well, maybe that frigate has some intelligence on it that might mitigate the situation.” Captain Jasomir shook his head ruefully. “It won’t matter now. They could have the pirate Captain himself on board, and it wouldn’t save me at this stage.” I looked at him for a moment, and almost patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. Something told me that would not be received well, however, and so, with a shake of my own head, I moved towards one of the forward stairs to gather my things and see if I could help the men below. It would occur to Jasomir sooner rather than later that he did not need to return to Garrik Arkos at all. Perhaps he would not like a chronicle to exist of this day’s events. In any case, I would need to be long gone from the torn decks of the Kuraga Kumpano.

Dragos Koranyi (Part 2) Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Dragos Koranyi (Part 1) Day 7264, Just North of the Cauldron of Silence I will admit to a certain amount of trepidation upon first boarding the vessel of another race. It is not a question of alien motivations or problems with communication, as my

experiences have shown me that most sentient beings are moved by a very similar, and limited, array of stimuli. However, knowing that a man – whether human, elven, or even orc – wishes to be remembered in glorious terms, does not negate the alienating aura of ‘the other’ as one joins a new non-human crew for the first time. All of these thoughts were churning through my mind as I sighted the Phoenix Battleship, ‘Celestial Dawn’, more than a day after my last reserves of drinking water had drizzled down my parched throat. Trepidation battled with desperation as the vessel drew closer to my fragile raft. I had spent time amongst the elves before, and, whilst I had survived each visit unharmed, the experience was never a pleasant one. Nevertheless, my alternatives were few, namely drown or die of thirst, and so I resigned to being the lamb amongst the wolves. Besides, the greatest adversity always provides the most memorable tales. The elves, tall and haughty to the last, stared unfeelingly at me as I clambered with some difficulty onto the gently-sloping lower deck of the large ship, her graceful sails curving above us in the harsh sun. Their armour glinted golden in the light as well, and more than a few elven marines were nearby, hands on the upswept hilts of their sheathed swords, watching me with a mix of suspicion and disdain. Although I have sailed with elves several times in the past, I cannot pretend to understand their modes of dress and rank designation sufficiently to have picked an officer out of the bunch that stood around me. And of course, with elves, the lowliest deck hand can match the highest ranking Imperial Councillor sneer for sneer when it comes to insufferable snobbery. In the end I sketched a clumsy bow in the general direction of the largest cluster of crewmen and mumbled generic thanks. Of course, the response came from behind me. “So, human, how come you to be pitching and tossing in your little boat, so far from kith and kin?” The speaker had a touch more gold in his armour, a bit more of an angle to his eyebrow’s high arch, but little else to indicate his command status. I turned smoothly towards him, nevertheless, and bowed again. “That is a long and tragic tale, your honour.” It is always best to be vague with an honorific reply, I find, until a person shows you their preference, which they almost always do. “I am Adjo Awan, Lord of the Shanhaar Basin and Master of the Bisi Plains. I am what you would refer to as the first mate of this vessel, Her Most Glorious Majesty’s Battleship, Celestial Dawn. Now, in a short and bland retelling, who are you? And why should we not string you out for the carrion to glut feed from?” I nodded. Typical Thaniras; a string of titles longer than his elegant neck and the casual malice of the incurably superior. I marshalled the points I had decided upon hours ago when I first sighted the Phoenix. “Well, Lord Awan, I am Dragos Koranyi, an itinerant Chronicler and long-time admirer of the elegance and grace of the Thaniras kindred.” At the word Chronicler many of my listeners stood a little straighter, pointed ears pricking.

Adjo Awan arched an eyebrow even further, defying physics and physiology. “A Chronicler, eh? Might we have heard any of your works?” “Are you familiar with the lay The Last Stand of Kerinor Deluvial?” Not one of my better works, but I knew it was popular among the Thaniras Elves who had come to the Uncharted Seas decades earlier. The officer nodded slightly. “A reasonable piece, exhibiting some passing grasp of martial honour, even if the pharyngeal octometer in each quatrain is a tad forced.” I nodded obsequiously, “I must humbly acquiesce, my lord.” Nothing I had not heard before from other elven pedants of their insufferable Boudiean school of verse. He grunted at me. “Hmmm. And so, again, how did you find yourself cast adrift upon such a dismal sea?” I bowed my head. “Sadly, I had taken passage with a less than gifted Imperial officer who ultimately objected to his every failing and shortcoming being witnessed by a Chronicler.” True enough, even if I planned to embellish the rest. “I was given word by some of his repressed crew that the tyrant planned to kill me and toss me overboard before we reached our next port, and with their help I secured a life raft and escaped in the night.” I grinned widely, being sure to show my teeth in a predatory snarl. “It should make quite a pretty little ballad, once I have the time to commit it to paper.” Several of his men laughed at the thought of a human captain so humiliated, but Awan merely grunted again. “Ballads… A weakness of the human psyche.” I nodded. “Perhaps so, my lord, but popular with the lower elements, and so quicker to be taken up into the common tastes.” I hesitated to ask for anything from this martinet, but my throat was getting more and more sore as we stood on the warm deck, shaded by the sails or not. “My lord, if it would be possible for me to have some water?” He shook himself and nodded. “Yes, Chronicler Dragos, Lord Thevan Phoskis instructed me to bring you to him should you prove more… interesting… Than is characteristic of your kind. Follow.” And so, with an escort of elven marines, I followed the officer across the deck and towards ship’s ladders, stretching high up the sheer walls of the battleship’s hull. Around me the elven crew made quick work of the braided ladder while others jumped down into my boat and poled it along towards the gaping resupply doors that were opening up towards the bow.

Lord Captain Thevan Phoskis Lord Captain Thevan Phoskis was an ancient elven noble draped in the heavy purple robes of a high mage rather than the gilded armour of their warrior class. He sat lazily upon a throne that had been placed in the very centre of the ship’s high command tower. The climb had been… Rigorous. As my guards and I emerged through the access hatch into the open sunlight, a water skin grasped tightly in my hand, I had to blink to clear the light blindness from my eyes. Phoskis rose a little in his throne, but looked at me as if I were a pail of bilge water dumped before him on the freshly scrubbed decking. “They tell me you are a Chronicler.” His voice was even and steady, with just a touch of the thready vibrato of age. “I am, my lord.” I averted my eyes. These wizard types often found that appealing. “The source of that magnum mediocrity, The Last Stand of Kerinor Deluvial?” That’s Thaniras Elves for you. Every one of them a critic. “Yes, my lord.” He grunted. At least I knew where Awan had picked up the habit. “Are you aware of the pirate attacks in the local area?” I nodded. I didn’t want to take the chance of jeopardizing my chance at passage with the elves back into the Cauldron.

“I believe something larger than mere piracy is afoot, Chronicler. I believe that we now feel the churning tide of history dogging our heels, and I believe a commander with the fortitude and talent to see the truth might yet grasp the strands of fate and write his name in the stars.” I was finding his prose rather grandiose and self-serving, but I would not have expected much else from any elf commanding a battleship, never mind a Captain-Mage. “That sounds promising, my lord. I would be honoured to accompany you into the Cauldron? I do not require much space, although the hospitality of the Phoenix Battleships is known across the Broad Blue… ” His skeletal grin stretched tighter. “Oh, you may accompany me, Chronicler, your attempts to capture the deeds of the Thaniras in verse should prove most amusing. But we will not be journeying aboard this vessel.” He gestured with one ancient claw off to starboard where the majority of his fleet was keeping station. “We will be aboard one of my swiftest cruisers, the better to chase down these dogs as they flee.” He gestured towards the horizon where two long, sleek ships rocked gently at anchor. “And we will be accompanied by our two new arrivals. The Thunderbirds will sear these pirates at their stations before they even know they are in danger.” I walked quickly to the balustrade and peered into the sun-dappled water. Each of the two ships, about the length of cruisers but with smaller sails, bore a large domed object amidships, snapping and crackling with barely-contained electrical fury. Occasional arcs of heavenly power snapped out and crackled against the ships’ hulls, mast, or the water around them. Suddenly the reason for the wide gap between those two ships and the closest elven vessels became apparent. “Excellent, my lord.” I turned back to the Captain-Mage trying to conceal my unseemly smile. “It would be my honour to accompany you and your squadrons in your righteous quest for justice.” “Justice,” Phoskis sneered. “Justice is a cry of the weak. We quest for vengeance and glory, Chronicler. And you will be with us when we find them.”

Battle Report: Aboard the Kemosiri Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Day 7265, Aboard the Kemosiri, Just North of the Cauldron I hate the cold. I do everything I can to stay within the more temperate climes of the New World, avoiding the Northern Wastes, the Shrouded Isles, and the other northern regions that lie clasped in winter’s cruel grasp for the greater part of each year. Unfortunately, when one deals with the Thaniras Elves of the Uncharted Seas, one must learn to deal with the cold in more than one sense.

Aboard the elven Viper Cruiser, ‘Kemosiri’, I have spent most of my days huddled around the tiny brassier within the small cabin Captain-Mage Phoskis allowed me when we transferred to the much smaller ship. Whenever I venture out onto the pitching decks of the ship I must bundle up in the cloak I bartered from one of the sailors when I boarded. The ship is much smaller than the Celestial Dawn, but correspondingly faster and more nimble. I had overheard from various sailors that the captains of the Thaniras had driven their scouting squadrons towards the centre of the Cauldron. The region seems to have more than its fair share of treacherous terrain, and more than one elf wondered aloud how a raiding force of such power could be manoeuvring effortlessly through such a region. I wonder myself. Captain-Mage Phoskis has been kind enough to allow me total access to the ship and its crew, and I have wandered the wind decks, the weapon decks with their enormous magical spheres, and across the insectile frameworks that hold them in place. I have spoken with the gunner-mages that maintain the arcane weapons and the black crews that work the pumps and other esoteric machinery of the lower decks. The strangest thing about the ship, however, is its sail. The sails of Thaniras Elf ships are never lowered no matter the weather or circumstance, and I had always wondered idly why and how that might be. This sojourn with the elves of the Kemosiri has allowed me to scrutinize the sails at my leisure, and I find I am more confused and impressed than ever. The sails themselves appear to be a hard, brittle substance, rather than the cloth used by all other races. The cold northern sun shines through the sails as if through stained glass, casting colourful shadows that chase each other across the deck. Speaking with the topmen of the crew I gather that the sails not only catch wind, but some form of magical force and even – if some of the more talkative sailors are to be believed – light itself, propelling the ship forward while recharging the array of orb weapons. The Captain-Mage’s force is made up of the Kemosiri’s sister ship, the Falling Leaf, as well as a small squadron of the fascinating Thunderbird Cruisers. The outriders of the small fleet are a squadron of Raven Frigates and a mixed squadron comprising a pair of Crow Destroyers being shadowed by another Raven. The Destroyers are particularly fascinating, as they bear no sails at all, rather surging low across the water much like the loud and smoking monsters of the Iron Dwarves or the Shroud Mages. But this ship was completely silent, giant spheres of glowing yellow energy embedded upon the aftersides of their birdlike structures. Behind each orb a churning wake stretched back away from the ships, and I knew, not knowing how, that the orbs were propelling the ships forward. I had heard of some of the newer Thaniras constructions using this method of propulsion, including the massive new Chimera Flagship, but I had never before seen such a ship in action. They seemed nearly as fast as the frigates, and being freed from the constraints of the wind could prove a great tactical advantage should the fickle gods shift them against the elves. It has been growing steadily warmer now as we leave the ice flows and barren islands behind. We should be entering the Cauldron soon, and can begin our final attempts to

chart a passage through the unknown terrain for the main elven force. Should we find the pirates I am hoping the Mage-Captain’s temperance is equal to the challenge, for even with the manoeuvrability of the Crows and the terrifying power of the Thunderbirds, I have been developing an eerie sentiment that these mysterious pirates are more than they at first appeared. Day 7268, Within The Cauldron of Silence

Fig. 1 We were sailing through a light mist, the violent collision of the cold air that had followed us south and the warm, still air of the Cauldron wreaking havoc with local weather. We approached a region Phoskis believed would allow his heaviest ships to pass through into the inner Cauldron. A passage between two small islands, with a very narrow channel, was guarded by a treacherous reef, seldom visible above the low waves of the region. The Captain-Mage felt certain the high draft of the ships with us would allow them to pass unharmed, seeking a clear path for the heavier ships that followed. Moving towards the uncharted area, Phoskis sent the Crow Destroyers with their frigate escort drifting off to the west as we plunged down upon the target area. The Thunderbird Cruisers dove for the centre of the region, assuming that any enemy scouting vessels would be small, and ripe for the power of their harnessed lightning. The Kemosiri and her sister ship kept to the east of a small island on the outskirts of the channel, while the large squadron of frigates swung to the west of the island, taking soundings across the mouth of the channel in search of a safe passage. Through the clinging fog I could not discern any dangers for the fleet beyond the shadowy bulk of the island rising from the still, oily waters. I was impressed, therefore,

at the discipline and focus of the elven crew all around me; standing as still as statues peering into the swirling mist, shallow creases of concentration on their smooth foreheads. There is nothing like travelling with elves to make one feel ones’ age despite, or perhaps even because of, the fact that one is the youngest creature aboard. I glanced behind me at Captain-Mage Thevan Phoskis. If I was looking for a sign of tension in his eyes or bearing I was doomed to disappointment. The old elf was slouched down into his command throne, one claw-like hand held relaxed at chin level as if concentrating on something only he could see. We had been blessed by the gods of the wind on our approach to the channel, as there was a gentle following breeze pushing us smoothly along; enough to make the most of the sleek elven hulls, but not enough to hamper any efforts to come about should we encounter trouble within the channel. Were there foes approaching through the fog, however, they would be struggling against the wind, finding navigation within the confines of the bracketing islands difficult. I almost made a comment along those lines to the Captain-Mage when he sat up straighter, his hand snapping down, and a slight gasp of discovery escaping his now predatory grin. “Ah—” he gripped the arms of his throne and leaned forward, eyes fever bright in their dark sockets, “Hunter or prey, my strange friends?” The Captain-Mage allowed his eyes to drift closed as he sat back into his throne, grip not slacking on the gilded arms. A look of vague strain came across the wizard’s face and his body tensed for a moment. I wanted to ask one of the command crew what was happening but I feared their reaction if I interrupted whatever it was. The answer came moments later anyway when the wind sliding along the sail overhead strengthened and shifted a point to the south, now driving straight into the teeth of the channel. Phoskis snapped his eyes open with a victorious snarl. “Now we shall see who hunts whom, my young friends.” There was still no sign of enemies within the channel. But even as I stood, peering into the fog being stirred by the freshening breeze, the crew reacted to the captain’s intentions by calmly hoisting open the golden covers that guarded the orbs. Vague shadows moved off the western shoulder of the larger island ahead of us, and the entire line of elven ships began to hurl balls of coruscating energy into the mist, illuminating tunnels of swirling fog, before falling in dazzling splashes into the dark water. By the light of the magical ordnance two enormous shapes floating above the island became momentarily clear before disappearing again into the gloom. Phoskis snarled. “Send the Crows around the western island to chart that passage, followed by the Ravens. I do not wish them to engage any foe they find. Have them push as far into the channel as possible and then withdraw back to this point before awaiting further instruction. I want the Thunderbirds down the throat of the channel at their best speed, while we skirt the large island ahead and swing into them from the rear.” His face was twisted into the cold visage of a bird of prey preparing to stoop upon easy pickings. I wasn’t sure how the captain knew anyone was out there beyond whatever those hulking shapes in the sky had been. Was it possible that Garrik had forces in the area?

Could those have been guardian Harrier Assault Balloons, tethered over the channel to watch for an approaching enemy? That would be unfortunate. It would be hard to explain my presence aboard an elven command vessel, when the last time I had seen the old nobleman, I had been a guest of Captain Jasomir aboard the Kuraga Kumpana. I didn’t imagine that Jasomir had returned to the fleet, and I knew that I must be assumed lost with the rest of that ill-fated squadron. Appearing now, with this aggressive elven fleet, would require some quick work on my part. But as we moved through the fog, the dark islands gliding by along the starboard rails, I ran through the brief glimpses of the airborne objects over and over in my mind. The lines had appeared wrong. They seemed to lack the launching decks of the Harriers, and to carry more weight, somehow, than those light, portable assault platforms only now catching favour among captains of the Imperial fleets. But if not a Harrier, then what could they have been? Some dwarven machines, defying gravity to hang above the island and guard it against infiltrators? Perhaps an invention of the Shroud Mages? I was unaware of other factions active in the area with such large flyers. There was no way the objects could have been dragons, not of any species I had heard of. As I continued to try to puzzle out the identity of the vessels awaiting us, an acolyte in heavy white robes shuffled up to the captain’s command throne, hands clasped within deep sleeves, and bowed his head, his mumbling voice giving a report in a monotone voice. The captain nodded, and then rattled off a few commands of his own and the acolyte moved away. The old wizard turned his gleeful eyes back to me. “It appears the winds have bottled up the foe in the neck of the channel. A squadron of small ships founders on the windward side of the island ahead, while the balloons overhead struggle to make any headway into the channel. There may be larger ships to the west, but I am confident in my outriders’ ability to fulfil their tasks and escape unscathed.” I nodded, attempting to appear respectful and at ease. “Do you have any idea who they might be, my lord? Do your captains recognize the craftsmanship or the lines of the vessels facing us?” He grunted, resting back into his chair and clutching his pointed chin with one thin hand. “They do not. Which is almost a certain identifier in and of itself. There is but one race new to this region that fields balloons the size of those floating before us. The alien Ralgard are still rare, and no one truly knows their purpose in moving into the New World from wherever they come from. But I cannot imagine we face anyone other than them today.” He gestured with his chin to the west as we began to move past the second eastern island. “Today should prove quiet interesting to a Chronicler, human. Accounts of the Ralgard are few and far between.” I watched as the shadowy bulk of the island slipped towards our stern, still incapable of seeing anything in the fog. The starboard orbs flashed again, sending globes of destructive power arching into the gloom, but again to no avail. I despaired of being able to see anything, never mind these alien Ralgard, when the captain again stiffened. This time, however, the discomfort was clear on his face. Droplets of sweat soon

tracked down from beneath the beaded ceremonial headdress. The wind did not shift, it still moved through the channel, pushing the elven vessels southward. But the wind seemed to pick up speed and strength. The fog began to swirl and shift before the wind, piling up against the islands and streaming away to the south, revealing two massive balloons. Gondolas shaped like sailing ships hung beneath them, as they moved over the channel. Four squat, square-rigged frigates moved towards the channel, fleeing our approaching cruisers, but – if the Thunderbirds were in position – directly towards Phoskis’ prepared trap. But the balloons and the frigates were not alone scouting out the channel. A large squadron of lateen-rigged cruisers beat against the wind to the west, desperately trying to manoeuvre into a position to protect the frigates struggling towards their doom. Even I could see, however, that against the rising wind they would be far too late. The Kemosiri and the Falling Leaf came around the island just as the war balloons swept in low to take a sounding along the flank of the channel. Both ships illuminated the sea with their magical attacks as glowing spheres of energy rose gently up into the sky, impacting one after another upon the fragile hull of the gondola. Wreckage and flame rained down upon the shadowed water below, and the balloon gave a violent jerk to port and then drifted lazily into a flat arc, its empty windows staring down like dead eyes upon the approaching elven fleet. Our position on the flank of the channel gave us a clear view of the enemy frigate squadron and the Thunderbird bearing down upon them. I had no time to process what I was seeing before the globe of lightning flared and arcs of fulgent power reached out in all directions. Only one of the frigates escaped unscathed as the brilliant streamers of fire writhed across the nearest three ships, electrocuting the distant crew as they stood at their stations. The elves watched two of the three affected frigates swing into the current, the survivors insufficient to effectively crew the ships and they began to push towards the sandy beaches of the island. Far to the west, the enemy cruiser squadron swung first towards us, and then away. Somewhere behind the far island, on the other side of the channel, the two outrider squadrons must have been spotted. Return fire in the form of tiny orbs of glowing light arced back towards the imposing cruisers but either came up short or cascaded off heavy armour.

Fig. 2 The undamaged balloon began to struggle against the wind, trying to come around to bring its broadsides to bear against the Thunderbirds below. Gun ports along the starboard flank of the gondola opened up to reveal clustered barrels of cannon glaring down. Before the ship could fire, however, the Viper Cruisers fired again, lobbing their magical ammunition into the dangling target. The first balloon, seeming to drift along with the wind without guidance, slid in front of the target, but not before we saw another spill of wreckage and fire dropping into the water. There were the sharp reports of cannon fire, but the Thunderbirds surged ahead unharmed, armoured prows cutting through waves and ignoring the occasional plumes of plunging fire. The two enemy frigates still in command tried to swing to the east to escape from the Thunderbirds, bringing their broadsides to bear against the elven cruisers. For the first time while among the elves I felt the fear of impending violence, as the muzzles of the tri-barrel cannons along the flanks of the frigates opened up, spitting smoke and defiance into the Captain-Mage’s ship. The deck beneath gave a slight shudder as an inordinate weight of metal slammed into the elven ship, shredding the command tower’s face and shattering several orbs in catastrophic arcane recoil. The frigates’ glory was short lived, however, as this time both of the Thunderbird cruisers were in range and their electrical energy pulsed out in all directions, clutching all four frigates in their radiant grasp. Another frigate joined the first two in their lackadaisical journey towards the lethal shore. There was now only a single frigate under command, and it swung around trying to escape the brutal fate of its brothers.

Fig. 3 Far off to the west I could just make out the Crows and Ravens swinging back around the far island, struggling against the same wind that had clapped the Ralgard fleet in irons for the entire battle. Phoskis smiled as another acolyte reported that the smaller ships had found a passage around the west side of the channel. They were retreating now, easily having the speed of the heavy ships that were moving in pursuit. In fact, with his forces in disarray, the Ralgard commander was in an unenviable position, never having penetrated very far into the channel at all. He seemed to see that himself as the cruisers once gain came about, driving into the channel with renewed focus. The Kemosiri and the Falling Leaf slowed their forward movement, sails flashing in the renewed sunlight. Magical energy once again flared out, spheres slamming into the damaged balloon and the sole remaining frigate at the same time. Both craft disintegrated under the hellish barrage, leaving nothing but smoking wreckage floating upon the oily water of the Cauldron. There was now no way the Ralgard could outmanoeuvre the nimble elves, who had acquired the information they needed to plunge their full strength into the heart of the Cauldron. Phoskis had not lost a single ship, and in fact the only damage he had sustained was at the hands of the feisty frigates who had been erased moments ago. With a snide grin the Captain-Mage began to order his forces to come about into the wind and return to the main body of the fleet. Disaster struck, as it almost always does, when no one was paying attention. One of the enemy frigates, either through sheer bad luck or the bravery of a skeleton crew, had drifted directly into the path of one of the Thunderbirds. The cruiser was much larger, undamaged, and in full control of its movement. The ship should have been able to

avoid the derelict bearing down upon it. And even when that did not happen, there was no reason to assume more than superficial damage would occur, while the frigate would be driven beneath the waves and crushed to flinders by the armoured prow of the elven ship. Phoskis was cursing the incompetence of his Thunderbird captain when the blunt bow of the frigate crashed into the cruiser, stoving in the prow of the larger ship. Every elf within my sight had come to a sudden, still halt and was staring incredulously at the cruiser floating off the small island. Before anyone could comment, the Thunderbird was illuminated from within as if a miniature sun had risen within the hull of the vessel. Every plank and rib was starkly outlined against the ghostly radiance, and then, where the ship had been floating only a moment before, an expanding dome of blue-streaked light flashed out, erasing the cruiser and the frigate that had killed her.

Fig. 4 As small pieces of the Thunderbird drifted back down to the churned surface of the channel the elves just stared in wonder at the scene of unimagined slaughter in their moment of victory. Phoskis shook his head in silent awe, muttering something about fate under his breath, and then gestured for Lord Awan to marshal the elves back towards the rendezvous point. Off the starboard rails as we came about, I watched as boat crews from the remaining Thunderbird put out in what had to be a fruitless search for survivors. I squinted into the setting sun at the towering forms of the approaching Ralgard cruisers, who were calmly ignoring the harassing fire being cast at them by the retreating elven

vessels. I had never before travelled upon a Ralgard ship. Never even met a Ralgard, in fact. I began to wonder how I might go about arranging for that to happen, and if the Ralgard culture even allowed for the concept of Chroniclers. Did they suffer from the same weaknesses of ego that all of the other races of the Uncharted Seas laboured under? There was only one way to find out, I supposed, and I watched speculatively as the large ships disappeared behind the eastern island.

Dragos Koranyi (Part 3) Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Dragos Koranyi (Part 1) Dragos Koranyi (Part 2) Day 7274, West of The Cauldron of Silence Whenever one is in danger of disbelieving in the gods, they show their ugly faces in the most intriguing of ways. The irony is not lost on me as I look out over the coast of Vyrdam, far from my intended destination. After Phoskis lost his latest toy to the Ralgard, his company had swiftly grown uncomfortable. With no relish of returning to the frozen wastes to meet up with the rest of the Thaniras fleet, I begged him for a Raven Frigate that might, under a flag of truce, be allowed to approach Captain Garrik’s fleet. The incessant pursuit of the mysterious pirates was growing wearisome, and I knew that Garrik would spare me a vessel to bear me back east. I will admit, still, of being intrigued by these newcomers, the Ralgard, but I had seen two relatively large battles in as many weeks, and that was more than enough excitement for this Chronicler. Captain-Mage Phoskis was pleased enough with his victory over the strangers, knowing that any work I composed on the event would clearly speak to his excellent tactics and magical mastery of the winds. However, no matter how he cajoled me, he also knew that the sad loss of the Thunderbird and her crew to a mere frigate would make for a sage of its own, and not one he would be glad to hear. Thus, he was eager to provide me with transportation back towards the last known location of the human fleet. Perhaps I would stop at El-Aron and catch a dwarven caravan south, where it was warmer. The Ralgard were said to be more active down there as well, and I believed that to be my best chance to see them.

Azsraan san Nar After having spent the last several weeks on battleships and cruisers, I was a little less comfortable on the Swiftwing than I anticipated, but I was glad to be leaving the Cauldron at last, and spent little time thinking about what I was leaving behind. And once again, of course, that is when the gods informed me that my work here was still not finished… The call of the look-out startled us all. Something was flying far above us, shadowing our movements. In the clear blue sky it was nearly impossible to tell scale, but it did not give off the feeling of one of the Thaniras’ War Dragons, or their larger cousins. There was something about it that tickled the back of my brain, but I could not coax that halfglimpsed memory into the light. Over the course of the day our unrequested escort maintained his position in the sky. There were times when I thought I glimpsed others off to the north or south, but I could never be sure. I began to formulate a fairly uncomfortable theory, when again the lookout cried out, this time indicating something that had popped threateningly up over the horizon. It was a long, thin ship, a single fin-like sail sweeping back and over its deck. A second and then a third ship appeared, forming a neatly-formed net before us. With cold certainty I looked up, knowing what I would see. Overhead, a dragon was plunging down upon us down our wake, while two other dragons, one to starboard and one to port, swooped in as well. They were small, bearing riders upon their backs, and it all fell into place. Nogdra Dragons, shadowing our little

ship for a squadron that had manoeuvred out in front of us. And now, even for the nimble Swiftwing, there would be no escape. The elven captain attempted to swing south, the charged arcane orbs along his port flank rippling with continuous fire against the approaching Sunset Frigates. Several of the burning spheres slammed home, igniting the lead enemy frigate and causing it to slew out of formation, but the elves’ excitement was short lived as the Nogdra Dragons stooped down upon us and bathed the small command tower in flame. When the heavy thud of armour-piercing ballista bolts shook the deck beneath my feet, I knew the end was near. I was fished out of the cold, dark water by the crew of the frigate Tumarati several minutes later, most likely because of my outlandish clothing, as the elven survivors were left to their own devices, bobbing on the waves. It is always disconcerting to meet Dragon Lord Subasha after a time away. Although human, there are distinct differences between these willing servants of the selfproclaimed Overlords of the Broad Blue and us, their Imperial cousins from the Old World. The first thing that strikes the observer is the nature of their armour; Although only the most high-ranking Subasha warrant full suits of plate and chain, complete with helms in the shapes of many fantastical beasts, even the lower castes of the slave races wear armour that evokes the shapes of the lizard-like creatures. The men staring down at me from the railing of the Tumarati all wore leather caps that had been appointed with iron rivets and detailing that made it look as if human faces were staring out, wide-eyed, from the mouths of dragons. Every Subasha I have ever met had the same fixed, stare, as if trying to replicate a lizard’s cold, analytical gaze. I don’t know if it is permanent, or merely an affectation, but it is most disconcerting when one is trying to conduct a civilized conversation. And all of this coupled with their tendency to remove every hair from their bodies; you may understand me when I say that to be the guest of Dragon Lord Subasha is mildly disturbing, to say the least. Once they had pulled me from the waves, the Subasha crew threw me in a storage room below decks. They did not search me, leaving me with my weapons and my writing case, but neither did they feed me, and when they came for me two days later and escorted me to the main deck, I was faint with hunger. The pains in my stomach were forgotten, however, as I came up on deck and looked in wonder at the immense wall of slick grey wood that stretched away to either side of the starboard railing. High overhead I saw an ornate balustrade with crenulations indicating weapon emplacements on the other side, and realized we must have come up beside an enormous Dragon Lords ship of war.

Dragon Lords A large hatchway opened in the hull of the ship at about the height of our upswept mast, and faces, again from within ornate leather helms, looked down before tossing out an elaborately woven ladder. With silent gestures, two of the near Subasha indicated the ladder and one shoved me towards it. I looked around the Tumarati one last time, nodded sardonically to my hosts, and began the nervous task of climbing the writhing ladder up the side of the massive ship. I knew not to look down, but I did nonetheless. Beneath me a strip of white water, slapping back and forth between the two hulls, waited to break my fall and pull me under. With a deep breath I continued to climb, resolutely focusing on the slick grey wood swaying a foot before my eyes. Rough hands helped me over the combing of the hatch and into the cool shade, away from the yawning, foam-filled chasm. Forgetting my situation, I nodded my thanks and rubbed my numb hands together before looking up with a smile upon my face… Into a ring of wide, dead eyes staring at me without expression. Subasha. I forgot. Very seldom am I at a loss for words, but there, in the vast inner spaces of a Dragon Lords ship, surrounded by the most alien humans in existence, I was at a loss as to what I was supposed to say. “I was told to climb up here?” Not my best work, but under the circumstances I was not going to berate myself too soundly. The expressions did not change so, in the absence of a better plan, I took a moment to look about me. My already staggered mind stopped near-entirely. All around me rose the hull of the great ship, bathed in a deep turquoise blue that streamed in through a massive domed ceiling of stained glass. A harsh cry drew my attention towards the aft spaces, and I gasped involuntarily as I saw a dragon being coaxed back to a series of stalls along the starboard bulkhead by a gang of heavily armoured Subasha. A real, live Nogdra Dragon. That would mean that… “Greetings, human.” The voice was harsh and gravelly, with an unfamiliar accent that bordered on a speech impediment, as if spoken from a mouth not designed for the

language. I schooled my face, knowing that any extensive expression would be seen as weakness, and turned slowly towards the voice. The creature standing before me was nearly seven feet tall and completely ensconced in ornate armour, gilded in what looked like red gold. It carried an intricately carved lion’s head helmet casually under one long arm and regarded me with curiosity from its narrow, vertically slit, pupils. The flesh of the face was a greyish tone, with sharp, hard features that bore no expression that I could decipher. Thin black hair was pulled back into a topknot bound with barbed golden wire. “I am Wing Lord Snaga Jacina Veer, and I have been bidden to convey you to his most puissant lord, Azsrann san Nar, Prince of Traal and Master of Sea and Sky, and commander of this Eyrie Dragon Carrier, Winged Fury.” I know my eyes glazed over at that. A race with a stronger penchant for names and titles than even the Thaniras – I could hardly believe my ears. For this was my first encounter with a live Dragon Lord, you see. They are vanishingly rare, as most experienced sailors will tell you. The vast majority of warriors and sailors encountered upon Dragon Lord vessels are their Subasha slaves. There are various theories as to why this is, but most assume that the Lords feel that they are above putting themselves into danger when there are races more than willing to spill blood on their behalf. And yet, here was just such a one, and he seemed anything but timid. I nodded and gestured quickly for Lord Veer to lead the way, while I followed, having to skip every few strides to keep pace with his long-legged strides. We moved swiftly through the dappled light, making for a large switchback stairway that snaked up towards a gangway that wrapped around the entirety of this strange space. I almost stumbled when a chance glance to my left, towards the bow of the ship, caught a glimpse of the enormous doors leading out onto what must have been the launching deck. I hurried to catch up to Veer, muttering an apology in case the look he shot over his broad shoulder was one of frustration. I still could not be sure. Azsraan san Nar, Prince of Traal and lord of all he surveyed, met me on the massive aft deck of the Winged Fury. The climb had been gruelling, and I was sweating and out of breath by the time I reached him. A massive specimen of his species, unless Veer was runt, Azsraan san Nar’s armour was even more intricate and gilded than that of his subordinate, while his face was no more expressive, unfortunately. To our left the massive vane of the huge ship’s arcane sail rose into the sky overhead, dragonhide rippling as if alive or responsive to a breeze I could not feel. The Prince of Traal was staring out at the shoreline, nearly out of sight to starboard, but when I approached he turned gracefully and regarded me with his expressionless face. We stared at each other for what seemed close to an hour before he nodded, snarled – showing a mouth full of long, jagged teeth – and then growled, “Dragos Koranyi.” For lack of an informed response, after a moment I nodded back. “Chronicler.” There was no real way to read meaning into the tone, I just had to hope this was not an indictment. So again, I nodded.

“You have been journeying with the Patuljaak.” The face did not move. The gravelly voice was level. “Sorry?” I was feeling quite out of my depth. “Those you call elves.” He did not seem frustrated or angry, but then, he did not seem elated either. “I journey with many folk.” I figured honesty was the best policy, all things considered. “As a Chronicler—“ “Indeed. No condemnation was inferred.” He turned back to the ornate railing, grasping the grey wood with vicious-looking talons. “You were with the Patuljaak, recently, only leagues away from our present location.” I was still struggling with the tone of the prince’s voice, but this did not seem to be a question, so I stood still waiting for a clearer signal. “They have dragons with them.” Again, no question that I could hear. “This displeases our dragons.” He thumped on the deck with one armoured talon. If he had been human, or even elven or dwarven, I would categorize his expression as hungry. But then, both Dragon Lords I had met that day looked perpetually hungry, so perhaps that was the natural set of their features. “I saw no dragons, but they are known to field them at times.” I didn’t want Phoskis to get in trouble with these brutes for something he wasn’t doing. On the other hand, the thought that perhaps the Dragon Lords were the very pirates everyone in the region was hunting had crossed my mind more than once during my journey to the fleet. If they had been sending their dragons out raiding, that could easily account for the lack of evidence. I kept my suspicion to myself, however, as I could not see how voicing it would help my situation at all. Discretion is one of the very first traits learned by good Chroniclers – almost as important as the ability to swim, in fact. “They have dragons now, Chronicler.” He turned back to me. “But they will not for much longer. The only dragons flying the skies overhead will be of the Azdaja.” I assumed he meant the Dragon Lords, and nodded. Prince Azsraan stared at me for a few more moments with his unblinking eyes and then turned away. “See him to his quarters,” he growled, and several Subasha moved sinuously forward. Apparently, I was going to be with the fleet for the duration. “My prince,” I made sure to stand very still and keep my eyes wide. “Do you not search for the mysterious raiders who have been ravaging these waters recently?” He glanced back at me and I swore he smiled. “No mystery, Chronicler. And there will be plenty of time to deal with them after we have swept the Patuljaak from the waves.” Nonplussed, I allowed myself to be led down into the interior of the ship.

Battle Report: Deep Within Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Day 7279, Deep Within the Cauldron of Silence My days among the Dragon Lords have been enlightening. There are very few actual Dragon Lords present, but far more than I would have expected. Prince Azsraan san Nar seems to be surrounded by an elite group of military and arcane advisors who are with him day and night. Given the rigid, almost desiccated texture of their skin it is hard to judge age, but several of the advisors move without the quick, sinuous elegance of most of their kind. And then, of course, there are the Dragon Riders. Subasha are allowed to care for the Nogdra, but are never permitted to mount one under any circumstances. Meals have been hearty but plain. This is very much a vessel of war, and very little by way of amenities or comforts have been provided. Aside from the intricate decorations of the ship itself, the warrior’s armour, and the beautiful workmanship of the vast windows of the flight deck, there is a sparse, Spartan aura to the entire endeavour. I have been given complete freedom to wander the ship at will, although the demeanour of the crew and the frighteningly violent aspect of the Nogdra on the flight deck make such wanderings less enjoyable than similar situations in my past. Although I must admit that the sheer scale of the Winged Fury is intriguing in and of itself. The wood of the vessel has a faintly oily texture, almost like a hard, rigid flesh. I have seen Subasha crewmen polishing the decks, bulkheads, and flanks of the ships with a dark oil that is quickly absorbed into the wood as if evaporating before my eyes. I was told, at length, how foolish the Patuljaak were to spend so much time and effort polishing the gilding on their ships. I nodded politely and moved away. No need to place myself any closer to the Thaniras than these sailors already thought me. Despite my fear and discomfort, I made it my duty to witness as much as possible of the care and launching of the Nogdra. The enormous beasts are fed raw meat from stained buckets that are emptied before them by calm Subasha. Each creature is assigned to its own stall along the bulkheads, but is free to leave at any time. In front of each stall is a pile of stone and dirt, pushed into a variety of shapes and configurations. The purpose of this was unclear to me, until I saw a Nogdra basking in one of the nest-like shapes, the afternoon light spilling through the deep azure glass high overhead. The dragons are led out, through the enormous timber doors to the bow of the great ship, to launch into the wind from the wide forecastle. I believe there are around to six dragons calling the ship their home, and from the exercises I have witnessed I believe they fight in formations of three dragons, though they also have a great deal of experience fighting as a single unified whole. Given the fierce burning fire each creature is capable of spewing from its mouth, I have nothing but pity for the ship that must eventually face these Dragons in combat. We have been sailing into the Cauldron region for several days now, the Dragons ranging ahead of us looking for any sign of the Thaniras Elves of Captain-Mage Phoskis that I had left so recently. Although I owe the old tyrant no loyalty, I cannot help but

hope Prince Azsraan and his dragons have no luck tracking them down. I know the Prince and his warriors are not the pirates that began the violence, but likewise I know Phoskis and his elves were innocent of those crimes as well. All of this combat was only allowing the true criminals to escape the punishment all of them were so eager to inflict. I have made several attempts to persuade the Prince to tell me who he believed the pirates were, but he only smiled and changed the subject. I am not entirely sure he does, in fact, know who they are, but he certainly seems confident. Looking out of the long windows of my cabin at the dark seas of the Cauldron racing by, I can only hope the Nogdra will once again return without news of the elves. I— The sound of returning Dragon Riders distracted me from my writing. There are cries of victory and fierce celebration coming from the forecastle, and the screams of excited Dragons. I fear Phoskis has been found, and battle will be joined before much longer. Day 7280, Within the Cauldron of Silence

Deployment When the two fleets approached each other it was obvious that Phoskis and his captains were attaching special significance to a pair of islands off to our north and south, and a strange, oily patch of sea undulating unnervingly between them. The quarterdeck of the Winged Fury was packed with the Prince’s advisors and the Subasha that would actually fight during the battle. There seemed to be much consternation regarding the elves’ apparent ability to evade a trap the Prince had laid for them. Another slick of the

greasy green water stretched away to the south on our starboard side, and the angry teeth of a jagged reef were just visible off our starboard bow. It appeared that, not only had the elves refused to manoeuvre according to Prince Azsraan’s plans, but they had arrived before the Dragon Lord forces. A long spear of green and gold glittering striped sails, rigid and transparent as glass, could only be Phoskis’ Celestial Dawn, thrust ahead of the rest of his fleet and coming around the small island just to the north. Behind the sleek battleship, approaching in line abreast was a squadron of Viper Cruisers supported by a pair of Griffon Heavy Cruiser, with a pair of Crow Destroyers lost in the distance beyond the southern island. I felt a cold finger run down my spine as I saw two huge shapes hovering over the island ahead. They could only be Elven War Dragons, and I was glad that the Prince’s Elder Dragon had returned to Traal the day before. Looking down the Dragon Lord line I saw that the Prince had anchored his southern flank with a squadron of Twilight Heavy Cruisers accompanied by a heavy ship I had referred to as an Invoker, which bode poorly for the elves along that flank. A trio of Shadow Cruisers approached the large southern island from behind the slick green waters, while a pair of Moonbeam Destroyers was nestled into the southern edge of the reef. Off the port side of the Winged Fury was a large squadron of four Sunset Frigates, eagerly pulling away from the rest of the fleet, looking to get to grips with elven Ravens that were surely hidden behind the low island. The battle opened when the Winged Fury suddenly lurched beneath me as the sail above us rippled violently, slowing the large ship almost to a standstill. I had never witnessed the entire Nogdra compliment take off at once, and the sight took my breath away as flights of the mighty creatures rose skyward on flapping wings, maintaining a tight formation as they sailed up towards the clouds overhead. The beauty of their graceful movements took me out of the violence of impending battle for a moment, but I was dragged back as the shouts of alarmed Subasha rang across the deck, echoing off the massive sail. Many of the human servants rushed to the forward railing and even the Dragon Lords were fixated, eyes suddenly wider if I was any judge, as the elven battleship soared out from behind the island. White water was foaming up around her bow, as the following wind seemed to push the ship faster than it was ever meant to move. In a matter of moments it had grown as it sped towards us, heeling off to our starboard side at the last moment. The magical orbs arrayed along the ship’s starboard flared in unison and launched a devastating barrage in the opening moments of the battle. Seldom have I ever seen such an audacious and brutal attack so early in a battle, and I knew then that Phoskis had decided that he would end this battle by taking the Prince and his ship out of the equation as early as possible. It would have been a telling blow, possibly even as demoralizing as intended, had it not been for the Prince himself. Even as the Celestial Dawn had unmasked itself and rushed towards us, the Prince had begun to bellow orders. The Winged Fury groaned beneath us as she came over onto a port tack that saw the vast majority of the elven broadside sail harmlessly past, quenching its arcane fury in hissing gouts of steam, drenching the decks and glass dome of the carrier.

Far to the south the bellow of the bronze bow chasers of the Dragon Lord Heavy Cruisers echoed over the water, having surged forward behind the large southern island. Far off in the distance a curtain of white water rose up to obscure one of the low Crow Destroyers, and several flashes of arcane orbs glared, releasing their power into the mist and fog around the ship. The two elven destroyers flew from the churning waters, one trailing yellow and orange smoke. They swept northward, seeking shelter from the heavy squadron behind the island. As the Crows came around the island the two Dragon Lord Moonbeams pounced upon them, unleashing a barrage of ballista bolts that thudded home into the leading elven vessel, shattering one of the starboard orbs. Before the cloud of supernatural energy had dissipated, the elven Heavy Cruiser slid forward against the advancing Dragon Lord Destroyers. The huge ships slewed to starboard, skirting the green stain on the water, and unleashed their combined magical broadside against the northernmost destroyer. When the mist and fire had cleared only a single Moonbeam remained, trailing steam and mist from her high mast. The elven frigates came sailing gracefully out from behind the northern island, approaching their Dragon Lord equivalents while the Nogdra Dragons sailed high up into the sky and circled around the island at a safe height. The elven War Dragons swept forward, over the island and into the surprised Dragon Lord Frigates. The two dragons unleashed torrents of acid from their gaping maws, bathing the deck of one of the small ships in corrosive fluid and killing countless Subasha, but not completely destroying the vessel.

The Forces Collide

I had to hide a surge of elation for my most recent hosts as I watched the War Dragons swoop upon the frigates, when a whoop from the forward deck rose to the skies. I looked higher, above the circling elven dragons to where tiny specks of darkness were falling from the sky. The Nogdra Dragons of one assault wing fell upon the elven dragon to the south and I could hear the echoing screams and roars over the intervening distance. Lances of flame struck out from the smaller dragons into the larger beast. Its pain was evident as it tried to defend itself from three different directions at once, losing altitude as its thrashing wings and tail drove it closer to the small island. The Nogdra followed the majestic beast down to its fiery death as it struck the island with a thunderous impact. I glanced surreptitiously at several of the Dragon Lords around me, trying to gauge their reactions to the death of such a creature. As always, their expressions were impossible for me to decipher, even as they watched the plume of smoke rise into the sky from where the still-burning carcass smouldered on shore. The elven cruiser squadron surged forward, too late to save their ally, but desperate to avenge the creature. Spheres of magical energy lofted skyward, one lucky shot falling through a formation of small dragons and scorching them in passing. Several tiny bodies fell from the sky to accompany their larger foe into the afterlife. Other spheres, arcing past their own battleship, struck the rearmost Dragon Lord Frigate a glancing blow that tossed living timber and screaming Subasha into the sea. I was still feeling relatively numb from watching the large, intimidating dragon destroyed by its smaller cousins when another roar from the flight deck drew my attention back up into the clouds, and I followed the stooping Nogdras with dread. Sure enough, the second assault wing fell upon the second War Dragon. The creature gave a pitiful cry as it plummeted into the sea in a colossal shower of white water and red blood. To the south, before the elves could recover from this terrible blow, the heavy Dragon Lord squadron came sweeping around the southern island in pursuit of the Crow Destroyers and hurtled right into the churned wakes of the elven Griffons. Bronze cannons and magically-enhanced ballistae launched towards both the small ships and the larger. The glowing barbs fell all about the burning Crows but with no effect. However, the salvo of iron shot smashed into the command tower of the rear-most Griffon and the entire ship stuttered in its travel. The tall, graceful tower was shattered and the vessel tilted to starboard trailing smoke and flames behind it.

Cat and Mouse The heavy squadron halted their rush to the north, unable to escape the following Dragon Lord heavies and instead flashed their defiance into the teeth of the approaching Dragon Lord cruiser squadron pulling towards the green slick. Again the savage balls of magical lightning fell all about their target, sending steam and water dashing up into the sky, but leaving their intended victims completely unscathed. Closer to my vantage point the frigate battle devolved further as the two squadrons interpenetrated, firing their respective weapons in all possible directions. At one point an elven frigate exploded in light and heat and I believed it must have suffered some sort of catastrophic magical failure, until I saw the energy blasting off the little ship grounding into the surrounding Dragon Lord Frigates. One of the ships staggered from the impact, but the others seemed to ignore the display completely. It was not so easy to ignore the combined broadside of two of the other ships, however, which riddled a Dragon Lord Frigate and sent it to the bottom of the sea. Under my feet the Winged Fury surged forward once again, cutting between the Celestial Dawn and her frigate escorts. Huge ballistae batteries along the ships flanks lashed out in both directions. One of the elven frigates found itself brisling with barbs which exploded into an eerie green flame. I moved quickly down one of the passages and through the base of the vane sail, to watch the impact of the starboard weapons against the elven battleship, and was gratified to see the barbs bounce harmlessly off the sleek hull of the large ship.

Now that the Winged Fury was in the middle of the battle it became more difficult to gauge the entire event from one side of the quarterdeck, requiring even the Dragon Lords to move from one side to the other to follow the unfolding events. To the south it was obvious that repair crews on the severely wounded elven Griffon were doing yeoman’s work, as the smoke from several fires had ceased pouring from the rents in her hull. I was watching the smoke trails disappear above the ship when the movement of the Celestial Dawn below drew my attention to where the elven battleship had slipped up beside us, exposing her entire broadside in a direct, point blank attack. I braced myself, crouching down beneath the balustrade, preparing to be obliterated by Captain-Mage Thevan Phoskis. Beyond the vantage of my crouching position the Celestial Dawn seemed to be flaring in a pure white light. Against my better judgement I rose slowly, grasping the railing to brace myself. The elven battleship was indeed glowing, each of its many magical orbs flaring brighter than miniature suns. Magical energy was arcing from those oriented to the fore and off the ship’s port side, pumping energy and power into the orbs along the starboard flank, pointing directly at the Winged Fury. When the orbs finally released their power, the attack washed over the dragon carrier like a tidal wave of heat and light. The vane sail shrivelled under the impact, the wood beneath my hands dried and crumbled, while the crew caught in the open screamed in pain as they burst into flames. I was sure Phoskis had succeeded in beheading the Dragon Lord fleet when, as soon as it had begun, the attack was over. The sail was still in terrible shape, smouldering and crooked within its smooth wooden framework, but the skin fabric smoothed itself out in a peculiar approximation of a living creature, while the damage to the rest of the giant ship seemed minimal, other than the loss of life around me.

The Noose Tightens The Winged Fury came about to follow the fleeing elven battleship with its broadside, launching another fusillade of barbed shafts after the ship while launching a similar salvo off the port side into the threatening Thaniras cruiser squadron. On that side the barbs found purchase upon the fore-most ship’s outrigger, shattering it and slowing the ship down as it attempted to lead the rest of its squadron behind us. In a well-executed classical naval tactic the elven ships swept behind us and unleashed their full fury, raking the carrier with their arcane spheres. Again, however, the gods of this New World seemed to smile down upon their chosen overlords, and only minor damage was suffered on the stern of the ship. To the south the elven Heavy Cruisers again fired into the approaching cruisers while attempting to escape the approaching Dragon Lord heavies. The barrage of magical energy smashed through the quarterdeck of the lead ship and it slewed into the sludgy green water, almost immediately coming to a halt as whatever was in the water pulled at the hull with a hungry intensity. The following cruisers moved around their trapped and burning sister and launched a rain of steel shafts after the retreating heavy cruisers, striking the undamaged ship with a line of magical barbs that detonated in a string of ripping explosions along its tall flank, sending gilded wood spiralling out into the surrounding water. Off our port flank the frigates swirled around each other trading arcane blows. The surviving elven ships seemed to gain the upper hand, sweeping around for a devastating attack that failed to land. The returning salvo then exploded within the last elven frigate

and it shivered apart, glass sails shattering into a million scintillating shards that struck the water all around in a shower of coloured death. Further deep-throated bellows called my attention back to the Dragon Lord Heavy Cruisers. Apparently feeling that the elven heavies were being dealt with, these massive ships had again begun to pursue the elven Crow Destroyers, and this time their bow chasers proved more effective, as one of the wounded ships shattered under the repeated impacts of cannon shot. The surviving destroyer attempted to move behind the low stones of the reef for what little protection they might provide. Overhead the Nogdras fell out of the sky upon the heavy cruisers and the Vipers attacking the stern of their carrier. The heavier hull of the Griffon shrugged off the fiery attacks of the diminished assault wing, but their Viper brethren were not as lucky. Flaming spears fell upon the thinner wood, piercing into the depths of the ship and igniting the superstructures that held the magical orbs in place. Freed from their chains, the orbs exploded with unleashed energy. The ship was suddenly reduced to its component parts and its crew immolated where they stood. I hoped it had not been the Golden Bough, but as it had been the lead cruiser, I was afraid it might have been. Repair crews aloft had straightened our sail and soothed the glittering fabric nearly back to its original position, but before they were able to return to the pitching deck the ship was surging forward again in an attempt to escape the elven battleship coming about behind us. The ballistae of the Winged Fury again flung their deadly payloads out over the waves. Another of the elven cruisers fell out of formation as she began to take on water through several holes. Far off to the south the final Crow, attempting to hide from the heavy cruisers, flew into range of the dragon carrier and was peppered with burning bolts. She stopped dead in the water as the survivors of her crew desperately put out boats before they could be washed into the reefs nearby. These successes were short-lived, however, as Celestial Dawn had come about, into the unnaturally shifting wind, and was once again in a position to rake us. This time the attack was with much stronger weapons. The magical orbs slammed into the stern of the big ship, tearing through the length of her and doing terrible damage beneath me. Clearly the dragon carrier was severely wounded, and I again feared for my ability to escape with my life. The Nogdras, seeing the true danger to their home, fell upon the Celestial Dawn in two waves, but were unable to damage the large vessel with their burning breath. The elven heavy cruisers, sensing our plight, lofted their deadly orbs against us and a rending crash echoed from the bow launching areas. Again the deck beneath me shuddered. Columns of smoke from several fires were now rising into the sky as the ship I was on burned. The Dragon Lord Cruisers, still pursuing the elven Griffons, finally manoeuvred themselves into an ideal position for full combined broadsides. The leading heavy cruiser staggered under the rippling impact of countless exploding missiles that ignited the entire port side of the ship in raging fires. Before the large ship could burn completely, however, the wind shifted unnaturally again, this time with a bitter edge to it, as it blew directly out of the north. The fires

were extinguished by this strange fire and a new life seemed to enter the surviving elven ships. Their flagship still circled us nearly unscathed, despite the pummelling the rest of the elven fleet had suffered. In the hectic melee of the close battle, the Winged Fury found itself precariously close to the shallows around the small island and desperately trying to beat off the surf before running aground. If there was a moment when Phoskis’ elves could turn the tides, it had arrived. Only moments after that thought had crossed my mind the Dragon Lord Cruisers again launched a vicious attack against the two elven Heavy Cruisers. This time not even magical wind could save them, and the rear-most ship lurched and slowed to a drifting halt as raging fires and furious explosions ate the ship from the inside. Its sister ship surged forward, running the last surviving frigate beneath its gilded prow while its crew fired into the Nogdra circling the Celestial Dawn, bringing one of the creatures spiralling down into the surf.

The Turning Tide With battle raging all around me and both sides in the conflict struggling to mutual destruction, I was caught completely by surprise when another broadside from the Celestial Dawn struck the port aft quarter of the dragon carrier a savage blow. The deck beneath me lurched like a wounded beast, tossing me against the railing. For a desperate moment I felt myself balanced on the edge of death, and then I tipped over, dropping an impossibly long way, into the cold waters waiting for me far below.

Day Unknown, Location Unknown Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas

Blood Reaver Dar'Vok It is easy to look back upon the last couple of days now with a sense of curiosity. Seeing new things and meeting new people always drive me over the next hill and around the next island. In the past few days I have seen some truly extraordinary things. As a Chronicler, I must keep firmly in mind those last coherent moments upon the deck of the Winged Fury; as a storyteller, I cannot forget the trauma and the fear that presaged these calmer days. When I hit the water, having fallen from the towering aft deck of the Eyrie Carrier, I struck with enough force to drive the wind from my lungs. I tumbled through the dark water, struggling without knowing if I was reaching for the surface or driving myself deeper. Flashing lights erupted in my eyes, and I did not know if I was about to emerge into open air or die. I awoke on the island’s shore, covered in wet sand and seaweed. There was no sign of either the Prince’s Dragon Lords or the Captain-Mage’s Thaniras Elves. I attempted to drag myself from beneath the blanket of slimy, gritty vegetation and nearly lost consciousness again. I ended up on my hands and knees retching out salt water, my head pounding and my throat raw. I tried to stand and nearly doubled over from the pain

lancing through my stomach. I was ravenous, and looking around I could see nothing nearby that could assuage my hunger. When you have survived as many dangerous predicaments as I have, you tend to take on a rather fatalistic approach to life. There is an element of perceived invincibility that creeps into your mind set: palace coups had failed to claim my life, bitter rivals for glory, gold, or women have left me relatively unscathed. A lifetime of travelling with violent creatures, and witnessing hundreds of battles from the sharp end of the spear, had left their indelible impression upon me, but I had never been truly close to death. The irony of facing slow starvation on an isolated island was not frightening to me, but rather bitterly offensive. I struggled to my feet and stumbled towards the treeline. I fell several times during the journey, at one point landing on a sharp corner of my writing box. Although painful, this at least had the happy side effect of reassuring me that it, too, had survived the battle. Within the treeline I found the tracks of small animals and several bushes with berries I thought would be edible. Over the remainder of that day, taking what nourishment I could from the berries and drinking from pathetic little forest rills, I journeyed up towards the very modest peak of the island’s central mass. Once there I could see all around, and confirm that I was, aside from the small animals of the island and the soaring gulls overhead, the only living creature for leagues. For days I scraped my life from the island’s meagre stores. With clever traps I captured enough of the small squirrel-like creatures that I shared the land with to keep starvation at bay. Then at night I slept under the trees, near the peak of the low hill, secure in the knowledge that nothing on the island could harm me. Something new arrived during the night of my fourth or fifth day, and I knew nothing of it. I awoke as the sun struck the tree tops overhead. I rolled onto my back without opening my eyes, let out a great sigh of frustration, and prepared to face another day of hunger pangs and introspection. But when I opened my eyes, my sigh turned into a gasp and I scrambled frantically backward. A group of creatures were arrayed around my feet, staring at me with hard, narrowed eyes from a very impressive height. Their skin was dark, ranging from a greenish grey to a deep brown, and their armour a combination of rich leather and burnished bronze. Their humanoid faces were impassive as they glared down at me in unnerving silence. I quickly pushed myself to my feet and was slightly alarmed to see that I only came up to the creatures’ shoulders. They were taller even than the Dragon Lords, with bodies more solid and wrapped in muscle. The mysteries as to who they were and how they came to be on the island were answered simultaneously as I saw the enormous balloon floating above us, an intricately carved and decorated ship hanging beneath it and a corded ladder dragging slowly behind that. They were Ralgard. I bowed deeply, beating my mind for any scrap of information I could remember about these new comers to the Uncharted Seas. Rumours among the traders said that these were a warrior vanguard, serving the fabled Ancient Ones who had ruled here before the Dragon Lords. That seemed far-fetched to me, but all the tales did agree that they were

fearsome warriors with a stark code of honour, and I knew that I would be safe, at least for a little while. No Chronicler had yet served with the Ralgard, but warrior cultures are notoriously susceptible to the temptations I can offer. I felt sure that I would be able to secure myself a place with these creatures long enough to find passage back to Human-held waters. “Greetings,” I began, but immediately stopped as one of the warriors shook his head with two abrupt motions, and then turned to gesture towards the ladder hanging against the grassy hilltop. The creature uttered several guttural syllables that I could not decipher, and then repeated the word “Dar’vok.” I nodded, sighed, and pointed to the ladder. “Dar’vok?” The warrior shook his head, pointed at the giant balloon above us, then far off to the west and said with a finality that send a chill through my blood, “Dar’vok.” I nodded again, muttered “Dar’vok,”, and moved to climb up the writhing ladder to the floating ship. My first ride in what I would later learn was a Dralnak Balloonship was primarily a whirlwind of impressions unfixed in my mind. Whether from exhaustion, starvation, or shock, I was not at my mental best. The crew of towering, heavily-armoured warriors all but ignored me as they went about sailing their ship. My first impression was one of size. The Ralgard warriors were truly immense, and thus everything aboard the ship, naturally built to accommodate them, was colossal as well. Doorways, companionways and furniture were all so large I felt like a child wandering through some fantastical giant’s realm. We were travelling aboard the Dralnak for most of a day, and I am afraid, what with everything I had been through and the fact that no one would talk to me, I simply fell asleep in the storage room assigned to me for the journey. I was awakened by a light tapping on the doorframe, and followed a warrior back to the control area where the majority of the giants were standing at a line of windows, looking down at something we were approaching.

The Ralgard I remembered seeing the Ralgard Heavy Cruisers from a great distance while sailing with Captain-Mage Phoskis. They were huge, boxy, fortress-like ships that crashed through the surf rather than cutting gracefully like the elven vessels. The ship below us now made even those fortress ships look like children’s toys. It had a massive tower at fore and aft and enormous junk-rigged sails reaching up to our Balloonship, sail-battens rattling in a fitful breeze. Golden detailing and decorations underlined the intricate impression of the ship, and as we came about to approach from amidships, a spinal gunnery deck that nearly doubled each broadside was revealed. It was truly a monster of a ship, and its tri-barrel cannon seemed a most formidable array of weaponry. Once again I found myself on the rope ladder. This time, however, rather than climbing up to a strange ship over a grassy field, I was dangling above a massive sailing ship who’s decks would smash the life from me should I slip. I found it a most nervewracking experience, not aided by the crowd of curious warriors that had gathered upon the forecastle to watch me descend. During the journey I had ascertained, from the few exchanges I could coax from my companions, that the commander of this ship and, indeed, the entire Ralgard expedition within the Cauldron of Silence was named Dar’vok. The string of guttural sounds before and after may well have been titles, but I was damned if I could wrap my mouth around them. I thumped down on the deck, and was quickly surrounded by a mob of seven foot colossi examining me with mild curiosity. I dusted myself off, wringing a little feeling back into my hands, and looked about as I settled the writing box on my hip. “Dar’vok.” I made the strange word a statement rather than a question, as I assumed none around me would speak my language, or in fact any language I knew. I had tried everything I could think of during our journey here, and nothing from High Dwarven to Plains Elvish had elicited so much as a batted eyelid. So I figured I might as well cut to the chase. I repeated the name into the heavy silence. “Dar’vok” A brown skinned specimen came forward and gestured with one enormous shovel-hand for me to follow. We walked along the spinal deck and around the giant trunk of the

mainmast. Everywhere we went the crew watched me curiously but made no effort to follow or interfere. I was surprised by how few crew there seemed to be, but when your average crewman is a seven foot tall giant I supposed you wouldn’t need as many. And the tri-barrel nature of most of their weaponry would require fewer gunners for a greater weight of metal than the average ships of other races. As we came to the aft section of the spinal deck we began to ascend a huge, wide stairway that reminded me of several palaces I had left behind in the Old World. Upon the broad expanse of the quarter deck was an actual building. Palatial in stature and decoration, it reminded me of nothing so much as the hetman’s huts of the Vosk villages I had visited over the years. A wheel and command station stood before the palace and looked down the spinal deck to the distant forecastle, giving excellent views all around the ship from beneath the vast junk-rigged sails. I was led past the control area with its huge wheel and up into the palace proper. Within I found myself in a mammoth hall, resembling an austere throne room, with a high raised dais and throne at the far end. Sitting on the throne was the largest Ralgard I had yet seen. He was resting casually on the large chair, sprawled uncaringly upon it and with a large flagon in one hand. I walked the length of the hall and came to a halt before the throne, glittering dark eyes regarding me the whole time. “You are a teller of tales.” The voice was a low, harsh growl. The accent was horrible, but I could understand the words easily enough. I nodded. “I am a Chronicler. In these waters I—“ “You tell tales. You spin yarns. You embellish and exaggerate the deeds of men, gilding a thing of beauty beyond its original provenance.” The voice was so rasping and hoarse it was impossible for me to divine any sort of emotion behind it. “Well, I take that which truly happened and I create from it a tale that will last the ages. I would not say I embellish—“ “Deeds of skill and bravery are beautiful in their own right and require no further elaboration.” I nodded, trying desperately to keep on my mental feet. “There are definitely folk who feel this way. Your average Grothgarda Orc, for instance—“ “You will not embellish my deeds when you tell my tale.” The eyes were shadowed by the prominent brow and low helmet rim. “Certainly not my Lord.” Was that a job offer? I was not expecting such swift adoption of the tradition of a Chronicler in the new comers. I was quite out of my depth at this point. “I am Blood Reaver Dor’Vak, Tar’Nak of the Azure Hunt and Oathmaster of the Traargant Tek’Far.” “I am at your service, Blood Reaver Dor’Vak.” I made sure to bow exceedingly low.

“For the duration of this hunt, you are.” He stared down at me and I was sure I was being measured. “You are no warrior.” I did not let the sting show. “I have been, my lord Blood Reaver. I am out of practice.” “A true warrior would not need to write the deeds of others.” The voice was making my head hurt, constantly trying to glean any hints of his intentions or emotions. “Well, you are not alone in that assumption, my lord.” I avoided his eyes, knowing this would be what he expected. This was no time for my displaced pride to get in the way of the story of the century. “Your kind is seeking the Pesh-Let, the honourless savages that have ravaged the outposts ringing this section of your seas.” I nodded. “My kind and most others, my lord. Your ships, too, have been spotted searching through the Cauldron. It is assumed you, too, seek the pirates that have been preying upon the innocent.” A repetitive grating sound shuddered out from the Blood Reaver, and his shoulders gave slight surges. I realized he was laughing. “We do not hunt the Pesh-Let.” I was puzzled, and saw no reason to try to hide it. “But your ships—“ “Have tested the strength and resolve of those hunting the Pesh-Let. We know where the Pesh-Let are. None here are worthy of them, and so we will claim them, end their efforts in this region, and move on. We are nearly finished here.” I nodded. I had heard very similar claims from captains of nearly every race. “And so you intend to destroy these Pesh-Let and depart?” “The Traargant Tek’Far have assigned duties in these waters, and the Pesh-Let are a mere distraction from those duties.” I glanced around the throne room. “One so great as you takes orders? I would imagine a lord such as you would be master of his own destiny.” The laughing sound rolled forth again. “You cannot instigate me to quick judgements, tale-teller, and you will find my pride is not the yawning weakness you take it for. I am but one piece in the great game of my masters. Were the rewards enough, my entire Tek’Far would be sacrificed without hesitation, from either my lords, or myself.” His eyes were steady and cold, and I had no doubt he was speaking the truth. I found myself hoping that the Arkos and Tepes forces to the east would not fall afoul of Dor’Vak’s orders. I shook my head very slightly and attempted to regroup. “These Pesh-Let—“ “You will know of them as the Kelpor. They are unknown to you, but not to us.”

I was confused. “Kelpor? I have never heard the term before. Are they new to the Uncharted Seas?” “They are, although they were not always so. It was far from here that we first encountered the rabid vermin, under stars strange to you. This Tharn seeks to establish itself in this region, and once they have done so there will be no ridding yourself of them.” My confusion grew. “And you seek to do us a favour? So you come to the New World in peace?” Again the laughter. “New World.” The laughter grew harsher. “How little you know, singer.” I let that go. If I had ever depended upon my singing for my livelihood, I would have found myself swimming long before I was knocked off the Winged Fury. The Pesh-Let Kelpor must not establish themselves in this region. It will disrupt a stratagem centuries old now coming to fruition.” “I grow tired. You may retire to one of the guest cabins here in the greathouse. One of my Bal’Nak will show you the way.” He gestured to a smaller warrior, standing quietly in the shadows. “We set sail for the Kelpor bolthole at dawn. Food will be brought to your rooms, and you will be summoned when we have brought our prey to action.” I bowed again, nodded to the Bal’Nak, and followed him down an ornately decorated hall. My head was swimming with shock, fatigue, and a thousand possibilities. I closed the heavy door behind me and sank into a bed that would have been Spartan to a Ralgard warrior but was quite spacious for me. The Ralgard had been known on the Uncharted Seas for a few years, although they were still not a common sight, and no one knew what they truly wanted. However, who could these Kelpor be? The next day or so could very well remake my career. It was a bittersweet realization that, should that be the case, it would be time to change my name again. All that I had accomplished would be lost as achievements I could claim my own. Well, such was the life of a fugitive. I collapsed into a deep sleep, the word ‘Kelpor’ revolving in red jagged lightning in my mind.

Battle Report: Once More… Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Day 7280, as best I can tell, Once More Entering the Cauldron of Silence

Establishing Shot I believe the only creature on this entire massive ship that speaks any language with which I am familiar is the Blood Reaver, and he has been largely unavailable for the last three days, unwilling to speak at length on any particular subject. I gather from those brief conversations I have been able to steal that the Thaniras forces of the CaptainMage were driven off by the Prince of Traal and his returning heavy cruisers. I knew neither of the larger ships had sunk or I would have seen evidence of it from my island prison, but it was reassuring to hear that the Azsraan san Nar and captain Phoskis most likely survived the encounter. I have been allowed to wander the Ralgard flagship freely, but none of the warriors or crew deigns to notice my presence. Thus, I have learned little. Earlier today the entire fleet came about, tacking northwards against a fitful breeze that set the battens of the junk-rigs cracking against the masts with unnerving reports. A request for an audience with the Blood Reaver was ignored, but I believe Dar’Vok must have received decisive information as to the location of their Kelpor prey. I took to haunting the massive quarterdeck, out the way of rushing sailors and drilling warriors, keeping my distance from the strange pillar bases sprouting up from the deck. I stared out over the Broad Blue at the fleet that surged through the rolling waves around us. It was easily the largest fleet I had seen in quite a while. There was a second battleship off our aft starboard quarter that looked like an enormous mobile fortress. There were two squadrons of cruisers, one off each fore quarter. The vessels looked similar, but two off our starboard bow looked larger, with alarming metal rams jutting from their prows. Towards the rear of the fleet sailed two small formations of what I

assumed to be frigates. Overhead soared three balloonships; I could attest personally to the speed of those craft, and I knew they would make excellent scouts as we pushed into the centre of the Cauldron of Silence.

I was gazing back at the phosphorescent glow of our wake when one of the Bal’Nak gunners strode up to me and barked “Dar’Vok”. I jumped to my feet, writing case bouncing against my side, and immediately walked towards the command palace without waiting for my escort. As I came around the forward walls to the large doorways I saw an island heaving up over the horizon. I wanted to look more closely, to see if it was inhabited, perhaps harbouring a base for the pirates who had began this entire sequence of events, but I knew the Blood Reaver would not be kept waiting. My eyes slowly adjusted to the dark throne room, but I could tell by the movement and the noise that a large crowd of Ralgard warriors and crewmen were milling about purposefully, while Dar’Vok calmly threw commands into the chaos from his golden throne. The giant strode towards me, hopping off his dais without pause. “The Prey has been run to ground, tale teller. Your chronicle of the Azure Hunt begins now. You shall see the Kelpor for what they are, and you shall see us claim our first true trophies in your waters. Before the sun sets there will be no doubts as to my right to the title ‘Blood Reaver’.” I was nonplussed, both by his words and the manic energy of his every movement and expression. His excitement was making it even harder to understand his words through the brutal accent. I settled upon a slight nod and bow combination that has hidden my confusion before distracted rulers in the past. He moved past me, still grinding out orders to his mighty warriors. As we came out onto the quarterdeck and into the glaring sunlight, I saw that each of the ships around us was alive with crewmen and warriors preparing for battle. The muzzle coverings were being pulled off from tri-barrel cannons. Powder and shot were being prepared by the Bal’Nak gun crews, and the warriors were readying their weapons and checking their armour. The four massive objects I had taken for pillar bases were approached by elaborately robed Ralgard I had not seen before, and the bases were opened up and removed to reveal enormous drums set into the deck. Behind each drum, four shrouded warriors assumed positions of readiness, placing vials of a viscous, red fluid onto the drum skin and lofting huge mallets high into the air. Blood Reaver Dar’Vok barked out a single syllable of command and the four drummers began to hammer on the drums. The first blow shattered the vials, soaking drum and drummer alike in a deep red liquid and fierce explosions of sound washed out over the entire ship in a strange, syncopated rhythm. The drumming seemed to feed the frenzy of movement and energy from the crew, and Dar’Vok grinned around intimidating tusks. The fitful breeze we had been fighting against all day seemed to freshen with the music of the drums, pushing us towards the island with greater speed. As the land grew ahead of us I moved to the railing, looking down upon the spinal gun deck and the crowd of

giants preparing for battle. As I was scanning the controlled chaos below, however, a shout arose from the forecastle and the attention of the entire ship, like a ripple of wind over a field of wheat, caused every head to shift towards the island in the distance. They were staring hungrily at an object drifting in the sky off the shoulder of land to the east. It was just a gleam of metal, and at first I thought it must be one of the Ralgard balloonships, gone ahead to scout out the enemy positions. But there were two of them, and they were longer than the Ralgard airships. Purple and gold balloons were not supporting the wooden frames of ships bur rather surrounding them as one single shape. Signal flags flew to the tops of our ship’s mast, and the fleet split off into several components. Both battleships surged forward while the cruiser squadrons moved west, one to circle around the island, accompanied by the warballons, whereas the Raknarl heavy cruisers took up station off our port flanks. The frigate squadrons were holding back, sheltering behind the larger ships. I could not discern why, but thought it might have something to do with the prestige of first blood among these hunt-oriented warriors. But as we came around the island, warriors in the forecastle screaming for blood as the gargantuan brass bow chasers were readied by frothing Bal’Nak crews, the day suddenly seemed to freeze. The first thing I noticed was a single large ship in the same livery as the balloonships overhead, skimming along the waves ahead of us, lifted half out of the water by balloons of its own. But beyond the large warship was the sight of a vast human fleet bearing directly down upon us, the white and turquoise sails of the Arkos billowing fitfully on their tack. I looked fearfully towards the Blood Reaver, not sure if he meant to continue the attack seeing that we were now faced with such a dangerous fleet. But his grin widened even further and he glared down at me. “Mark what you see this day, Chronicler, for it will shake empires!” I nodded and gripped the railing more tightly before me. We had the weather gauge in our favour, and would find it quite easy to outmanoeuvre the Imperial ships as they struggled against the wind. There was a single column of white steam rising up into the sky over the human fleet, probably marking the presence of the new Condor Flagship Garrick had been hoping for. But that single ship, freed from the wind, would not be enough to turn the tide of battle. I had come to this conclusion only moments before a cry rose up from the four robed drummers. Their beat faltered, the music stumbled, and the sails above us gave a fitful start as the wind blew into our faces. The entire Ralgard fleet staggered against the sudden onslaught, and my confidence in my current hosts’ chances waivered as I realized the weather gauge had turned about and now clapped the Ralgard fleet in irons of air and misfortune. Dar’Vok growled in frustration, barking out a curt series of commands. The growling syllables were repeated down on the spinal gun deck and to the forecastle where the Bal’Nak crews bent to the enormous bow chasers which erupted in smoke and fire. Huge round shot flew up into the air and struck the foreign battleship a glancing blow

across the aft port quarter, raining wreckage and hull fragments down into the water below. Garrick’s flagship surged forward before the newly turned wind, its own bow chasers flashing out a reply, but the cannonballs fell short, throwing great gouts of spray up onto our forecastle. It clearly had no aft-firing weapons, as its broadside crashed, firing upon the approaching Imperials. As it moved it unmasked the two cruiser-sized balloonships. The Blood Reaver’s second battleship inched forward against the wind, struggling to bring its broadside to bear against the gliding battleship.

The Fleeing Prey Behind the Imperial flagship I could see several cruisers, both Hawks and the heavier Vultures, now flashing forwards off to port, while the sails of Kestrel Destroyers moved behind a short island to starboard, most likely making a move to flank the tight Ralgard formation that seemed fixated on the pirate battleship and cruisers before us. The smaller ships moving close to shore along the leeward side of the little island made my skin crawl as I realized I could very well be on the receiving end of the damned Martyr Frigates before day was out. I almost warned Dar’Vok of their danger, but a sense of loyalty to my own people stopped me, and I just hoped they would not target this vessel. The Imperial fleet was moving out, and occasional cannon fire echoed over the water. All of their attention was on the second Ralgard battleship, ignoring the flying ships and the rest of the Ralgard fleet. Looking over at the large ship slowly moving away from us, I could see smoke columns rising from several severe hits, and an entire section of the ship’s starboard side was reduced to chaos by a particularly effective salvo.

Dar’Vok maintained his fire discipline, and his ships continued to throw their full weight of metal up into the air at the battleship as it skimmed across the water attempting to escape to the east of the Imperial fleet closing in. His balloonships and cruisers fired long-range salvos into the retreating stranger and scored several minor hits against the ship’s flank, but the vessel did not slow down as it continued to struggle to break away.

The Ralgard Approach Dar’Vok pounded upon the railing before him and growled something under his breath. Then he turned, a dark grin twisting his alien features, and muttered “Enough of this cat and mouse, human. Witness the true power of the Blood Oath.” He shouted a single curt command to the Shaman working behind the drums, and pointed to the escaping battleship. The rhythm of the drumbeats intensified and seemed to grow deeper and more powerful as the giants wielding the mallets started to chant in counterpoint. Then they each drew a short, keen-bladed dagger and in one synchronised motion, split a long cut down their scarred forearms. Moments after the first droplets of blood sizzled against the surface of the enchanted drums, the pirate battleship seemed to halt, water from its latest skim gleaming in the sunshine as it washed down into the sea, and a strange, crimson glow suffused the ship. Suddenly, it was as if the Ralgard Bal’Nak could not miss their target, as if the pirate battleship was a magnet attracting every iron ball into its loving embrace. Salvo after salvo struck home, the large ship shuddering with the impact as wood, canvas, cordage, and crewmen were thrown in a wide arc away from the stunned ship. One final

broadside from Dar’Vok’s second battleship broke the flying ship’s spine and the entire mess fell back into the waves, slowly settling beneath the surface. Overhead the floating pirates moved to veer between the two Ralgard battleships, their broadsides slashing out to either side and inflicting minor damage upon the two larger ships. To the west a small squadron of human frigates had jumped ahead of the rest of their fleet, taking advantage of the following wind, to engage the Ralgard balloonships in a long-range duel. The small surface vessels were faring poorly, but the balloons were damaged, trailing wreckage and tattered sails behind them. The massive wall of approaching human ships was daunting as they rushed towards the fallen pirate battleship, intent to claim whatever treasure may still be afloat.

Battlelines The first major setback for my Ralgard hosts came when the Martyr Frigates flew before the wind and sailed directly under the shadow of the second battleship. Before the Ralgard knew they were in danger the little vessels detonated, engulfing the larger ship in a furious explosion. Before the smoke and flame could even blow back, the human Kestrel Destroyers, their iron prows gleaming dully in the sun, came storming up the flank and crashed into the staggering ship. The Ralgard warriors roared their defiance and rushed to the railings, but they were overwhelmed under a tide of human marines. Soon the huge ship was turning away, towards a small shoal, as a prize crew brought it close to the wind and away. One of the Kestrels was left with too few men aboard to fight her properly, but the other two ships, resupplied with crew, turned towards the Ralgard reserve of frigates, throwing cannonades into their slight hulls.

The Kestrel's Strike As the human fleet approached there seemed to be a great deal of commotion on their decks that I did not understand. Dar’Vok was furious that the humans were closer to claiming his prize and was lashing his crew to greater efforts, barely sparing the disappearing battleship a second glance as his claws dug deeper into the gilded wood of the railing. The human flagship and battleship approached, their bow chasers throwing smoke and shot into the forecastle of the Blood Reaver’s ship. When large ungainly balloons began to drift off the quarterdecks of the human ships, I knew what was happening. I did not know if Dar’Vok or his captains understood the imminent threat, but again I held my tongue. When those balloons launched their glider-borne marines, the Ralgard ship they landed on would be hard-pressed indeed. The sails above us snapped and shivered as the wind began to shift once again, and with a furious gleam in his eye the Blood Reaver grabbed one of the Bal’Nak responsible for running signals and shouted a series of terse commands at the towering creature. Flags then began to flash towards the Raknarl cruisers off our port bow. Directed by their commander and Oathmaster, the massive cruisers leapt forward before the shifting wind, driving for the human cruisers already collecting their scattered small craft.

The Ralgard Engulfed I shifted my position to the port side rail of the quarterdeck, giving wide berth to the furiously drumming Shaman on my way. I kept one eye on the assault balloons that had just been released, but I was curious to watch the exchange between the cruisers brewing in the centre of the battlefield. The approaching human flagship was burning, its prow smashed to kindling by the oncoming Ralgard fire, but it was limping forward, driving towards the ship I was on with a dogged determination. With the mysterious pirate skyships off our starboard side, I was beginning to feel trapped. The first Raknarl struck the leading human cruiser with a crashing roar that echoed back over the waves and off the surrounding islands. A terrible tearing sound followed the crash as the gilded ram crushed the flank of the human ship, the bulk of the heavy cruiser pushing the slightly smaller ship beneath the waves as her masts tumbled down across her killer.

The Charge of the Raknarl A light brighter than the sun rose up around the Raknarl, swallowing up the heavy cruiser and blotting out the ruined ship beneath. A furious blast wave roared out in the ever-expanding circle, hiding the centre of the battlefield from view. When the flare died down I looked back again, my ears ringing with the sound of the explosion, to see a downpour of torn wood, rope, and men falling back to the sea. The blasts continued as secondary fires swarmed over the ships still afloat. The human cruisers were all but gone. The flagship was limping, listing to starboard with fires raging all along that side. The two Vulture Heavy Cruisers in the rear of the human fleet formation had been pushed back by the force of the blast. One of the heavy cruisers erupted in a great ball of furious power, plunging the centre of both fleets in a cauldron of flames. This time I was blown away from the railing by the blast wave, struggling to maintain my footing on the pitching deck. A single Ralgard heavy cruiser remained, while the last human heavy limped out of the swirling smoke and flame behind the surviving cruiser. A lone Ralgard frigate surged away; none of the ships escaped in any shape to fight. The human flagship was dead in the water, boats making for the smaller island to the east.

After the Devastation The Ralgard ship, however, was not out of danger yet. The human balloons suddenly surged forward one at a time, launching their deadly cargo, and gliders full of human marines fell upon the stunned battleship, attacking from several locations at once. The first wave was seen off successfully, but at the cost of many Ralgard warriors. The second wave saw a swirling melee sweeping across the entire ship, right up to the broad steps leading up to the palatial quarterdeck. A final, furious assault pushed the last defenders back to the palace itself. I ran for the starboard rail, hoping to hide behind the palace until the fighting lust of my fellows subsided. My last view of Blood Reaver Dor’Vak was of him holding off an entire squad of human marines, killing with each sweeping blow of his massive halberd. Safety was not to be mine. I staggered against the starboard rail, looking back over my shoulder and paying no attention to my immediate surroundings. Suddenly I was caught up in a soft net that dropped down from above. I looked up in terror to see one of the strange purple and tan airships sailing directly above me. It was pouring fire into the surviving Ralgard ships, but had swooped in close enough to scoop me up in a huge net. It hoisted me up into the air and I spun wildly, desperately trying to keep my bearings. The human Kestrels were hounded off to the east by the surviving Ralgard frigates. The balloonships moved off towards the west, followed by two remaining cruisers. The human battleship seemed to be coming about, heading back towards the smaller island to pick up survivors as a lone Kestrel, bereft of its crew, glided onward towards the large island.

Aftermath It was hard to tell, swooping and spinning above the sea, but it appeared that the humans were in retreat, and somehow the Blood Reaver had seized the day. Whether he had survived to enjoy his victory, however, I did not know. I was eventually dragged through a cargo door in the ship’s keel. I was dumped unceremoniously onto the decking where I stayed on my hands and knees. I looked up and found myself staring into a completely alien face, with a single haunting eye.

Captains of Renown: Garrik Arkos Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas

Imperial Humans Garrik Arkos was born the heir apparent to the Arkos Islands over 40 years ago. Growing up within the palace of Arkruden, he was raised to rule over the scattered island territories of that ancient, noble line. As part of his righteous upbringing he was expected to serve in several capacities under military advisors, learning martial skills deemed imperative for every noble son to master. As a very young man, he served in the Arkosian army as a page on the general staff. He performed ably, if not with any special distinction, for his full year of service. After several more years of schooling, however, his life was forever changed with his deployment, with the rank of midshipman, to the naval fleets of Arkos. Named after a long pike-like weapon, out of favour with the Imperial ground forces for several decades but still in service with ceremonial units, many felt that Garrik’s name was meant as a threat to the other powerful families; in particular the Corvinus who were beginning to solidify their influence within the Imperial City. Garrik’s father, it was whispered, intended for his son to be like a spear launched at the ambitions of the Corvinus. If this was the case, however, his cast was sadly off the mark. As the scion of Arkos grew up to be a strong independent young man, his family continued to assert their power within the Imperial Council, forcing their political enemies into continuously weaker positions. However, Garrik’s family, holding established relationships with both the Corvinus and their bitter political rivals, the Tepes, found themselves unwillingly in the centre of the conflict. Decades of good faith and positive interaction were sacrificed upon the altar of political expediency, and the Arkos were forced by the Corvinus to publicly denounce their ties to the Tepes to maintain their own position within the Council. Joint naval squadrons were broken up into their familiar units, and the Tepes ships returned to their home ports, bitter at the betrayal.

Imperial Humans Garrik was serving aboard an ancient Kestrel Destroyer. It was during his second year of naval duty that the order was received to divide from the Tepes ships. The Arkos fleets had bonded over the years of joint service, and there was much grumbling and frustration at this move. It was the perception of the Arkos military men that they were being forced to abandon their companions for some vague political advantage in the Imperial City far away. An impressionable youth, Garrik agreed wholeheartedly, and saw the move as a cynical play by his father to cozen up to a former enemy at the expensive of a tried and true friend. An inevitable division between father and son had been set in motion, and the entire noble family would shake for it. The young Arkos heir had taken to naval service as he had taken to nothing else in his life. He loved the ships, the men who served on them, and the sea. As the first year passed he spent less time in Arkruden, volunteering to spend more of his time at sea. The officers in charge of his training were impressed with Garrik’s intelligence and the easy charisma his noble upbringing lent to his interactions with the men. His quick mind grasped the many variables of naval strategy and tactics naturally, and he rose quickly within the ranks of the service due to these skills and abilities and, largely, not due to connections to his father. As his naval service continued, first with command of a Falcon Frigate and soon an entire squadron, Garrik found his father growing more and more frustrated with his absent son. Repeated demands that he put aside his naval service and return to Arkruden were ignored, and tensions continued to grow between the two men. At the age of twenty-five, with eight years of service behind him and the loyalty of nearly the entire Arkosian fleet his to command, Garrik was dealt a savage blow when Jochen Saranic of the Corvinus seized control of the Imperial Council and tightened his grip on the human

domains. The Arkos family was forced to swear fealty along with the rest of the families, except the Tepes, who had been forced out of power within the Council completely. Garrik was summoned to the Imperial City to bend the knee with his father, but the letter instructing him to leave his squadron was reported lost during the journey. The young captain had seen this as the pivotal moment of his life. To return to the mainland, to bend the knee to a power-hungry madman who had ever been the bane of his own family’s ambitions, was to forever tie his life to men he hated and could never admire, and to turn his back on the one thing that he had ever truly loved; the sea. The son of Arkos used his influence within the chain of command to assemble a large fleet, primarily loyal to his family, and sailed across the Boiling Sea. He had woven a web of confusion and misdirection around his actions so deep that it was forever unclear as to whose orders he was following, or if, indeed, he had just conducted the single grandest act of piracy the Imperial State had ever known. However, Garrik continued to issue reports back to his father and the Overlord, and persisted to act as an honourable representative of the State, giving no reason for a formal reprimand or censure. His father, secretly relieved to have his eldest son removed from the political arena for innumerable reasons, began to groom his younger son Casomir to follow him. Garrik made no attempt to interfere. Upon his arrival in the New World, Garrik made it his duty to extend the influence and power of the Imperial State into the Uncharted Seas. He was to do this in the face of the countless established races and factions already there, including the burgeoning demesnes of the Tepes family. His tactical genius has been the difference between victory and defeat on many occasions, and he has never given anyone in the Old World reason to question his loyalty. It is whispered, however, that he does not confront the Tepes nearly as diligently as he should, and he has not yet led a single major fleet action against the renegade nobles. Captain Garrik Arkos in games of Uncharted Seas: In any game where the players have agreed to allow the use of Captains of Renown, any Imperial Humans fleet may field Garrik Arkos as their Admiral. He must be assigned to the largest-sized ship in the fleet and will not serve on anything smaller than a Cruiser. If there are several ships that share the largest Size category, the player may choose which ship will carry the Admiral to battle. Garrik Arkos in Battle: Captain Garrik conveys the following special abilities upon his fleet: After deployment but before rolling Initiative for Turn One, the player fielding Captain Garrik may redeploy 1D3 Squadrons. One of these may be deployed up to 6” beyond the limits of the regular Deployment Zone, but the rest must be placed normally. In games where the fleet starts off the board, the player fielding Captain Garrik may opt to start 1D3 of his Squadrons on the board, within 8” of any table edge he would be able to enter from normally, if he wishes. If the players would normally have to roll randomly for what edges the ships might appear on, only a single roll must be made for all Squadrons deployed in this way.

The Cost of Greatness: It will cost nothing to field Captain Garrick in any suitable game during the Cauldron of Silence campaign. However, in any other game, Captain Garrik adds 30 points to cost of whatever ship he is assigned to for MFV, Fleet Composition and Victory Points purposes.

Captains of Renown: Thevan Phoskis Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas

Thevan Phoskis Thevan Phoskis was once one of the most powerful mages of Queen Frea Yaldoran’s Council. A primary architect of the Northern and Golden Spires, Lord Phoskis was instrumental in controlling the arcane energies being harnessed and focused by the Spires during the Trial which rose Queen Frea to her throne. Having abandoned the weakened faction of King Sonnekhet decades before his final collapse, Mage Lord

Phoskis was poised to become one of the most influential elves in the entire Kingdom of Thaniras. However, the upper echelons of elven society are treacherous. The bloodthirsty reputation of the elves, the dark and brooding name they have earned over many centuries, always finds its most flagrant outlets in the bickering between the Subiran. Phoskis, a distant cousin of the Canthus Subiran, was forever forced to prove himself to his Selethian compatriots. Acceptance was elusive, and the frustrations of the young wizard mounted with each passing season. An instinctive understanding of magical power transference and arcane ritual were not enough to offset a natural inclination towards naval command and a vigorous and brash personality. As Phoskis rose in the ranks of first King Sonnekhet, and then Queen Frea, the resistance to his rise and influence became more and more entrenched. His enemies were far more gifted in the time-honoured elven traditions of subterfuge and clandestine discouragement. Standing beside the Queen as she underwent the Trial and establishing her possession of the Divine Grace of the Elements, Phoskis believed that he had successfully navigated through the many obstacles his shadowy enemies had placed in his path. Sadly, his own trial was only beginning. In the months after Yaldoran’s ascension there was an understandable redistribution of influence and power among the elites of Thaniras. Given his integral participation in the establishing of the new Queen, Phoskis believed he would be named Custodian of one of the Great Spires, or given the task of designing the new array of Spires being planned along the Ice Mountains. Instead, during the elaborate ceremonies of investiture, Thevan Phoskis of the Canthus, Lord of the Shebi Wastes, was ordered to return to the Gulf of Souls and await further instructions. The Queen’s voice was imperious, her manner haughty, and there was no avoiding the well-concealed smirks of his enemies as his sentence of exile was passed before the entire kingdom. Phoskis marshalled what dignity he could and swept from the Palace of Lethrenn, his diminished train of followers and servants following silently behind. The long journey back to his home was silent, the mage lord refused to allow any of his retainers to comfort him in any way. Despite all of his accomplishments, his labours on behalf of the Queen, and the warmth and camaraderie of her inner circle, he had been cast out. The lowly status of a family he was only nominally connected to had built a divide between him and the ruling elite, and they had thrown him down rather than see him working by their side. During that trek a bitter anger grew in the heart of the aging mage. His mind turned down dark paths as he contemplated various ways he could force the arrogant rulers of the Thaniras to acknowledge his worth. No elf alive better understood the workings of the Spires, and his aid had been essential in the development of the offensive orbs now being fitted to the Canthus and Lethrenn fleets. An orb of sufficient power, placed within the interstices of a charging Spire, would cause a catastrophic energy backlash that would devastate the landscape for miles around, killing every living creature within sight of the Spire. The thought of such destruction twisted his thin lips into a sneer of pleasure, and around him his servants relaxed, misunderstanding this change for dawning acceptance of his new station.

However, when Phoskis finally arrived at his family’s seat of Suten Hamu, he had calmed. He had no desire to see his name vilified in posterity, better to fade into obscurity than have his name be a curse word for centuries to come. But this meant that revenge could never be his, for within the straight confines of the Kingdom of Thaniras, the Queen’s word was law and commandment. And the Queen had spoken. The chance of her capricious majesty changing her mind, of her recalling her closest advisor and most gifted mage, were good. Yet such chances were of no comfort to an elf so recently and publicly humiliated. Phoskis took to brooding in the tallest tower of his family’s keep, watching out over the Gulf of Souls and the fleets being built and tested there. Word of the New World and its wonders and opportunities was only just reaching the Kingdom at that time. The docks of Suten Hamu buzzed with rumours and stories of the strange lands and peoples across the Boiling Sea. With each passing month fleets were being dispatched by the lords of the Canthus and Lethrenn under the disinterested aegis of their distant queen. All of Frea Yaldoran’s energy was focused on the rising Spires and the Great Experiment to which Phoskis had contributed so much. And yet, within each tale of the New World, the mage heard whispers of arcane power and celestial authority, the likes of which the Golden Council had never dreamed. A fresh horizon had been opened to the Elves of Thaniras, perhaps containing the path that Thevan Phoskis had sought for so long.

Thaniras Elves The famous mage emerged from his self-imposed isolation and began to re-establish his ties to the Canthus fleets from his boyhood training. At first his reputation as one of the Queen’s inner circle, despite the evidence to the contrary, was a barrier to his acceptance within the officer corps of the fleet. However, very soon the practical elves of the fleet were reminded of his earliest successes and aptitudes, and he was taken into the protective and insular fold of the fleet’s high command. It was not long after he emerged from his tower that Phoskis was granted command of a Griffon Class Heavy Cruiser in the first official armada launched into the Uncharted Seas. He was instrumental in a string of defeats visited upon the Dragon Lords, and rose quickly when a large portion of the fleet was captured and destroyed off Arbon in the third year of their expedition. It was not long before Captain-Mage Phoskis, from the bridge of his Phoenix Battleship, ‘Celestial Dawn’, commanded one of the largest Thaniras fleets in the New World. Queen Frea – still taking only the vaguest interest in the barbaric frontiers of the New World – was content to have an elf she thought she

new well in command, and allowed him to retain his position through inertia and complacency more than through any real sense of trust. And this could well spell the Queen’s undoing, for Captain-Mage Thevan Phoskis has been far busier in the New World than even the Queen’s most suspicious advisors understand. Using his position within the fleets, Phoskis has had his squadrons scouring the Broad Blue for magical artefacts from countless cultures. Somewhere within the Shrouded Isles Phoskis is building an edifice. Whether a palace from which to declare an independent elven kingdom, or a Spire to master all of the Spires in the Old World, it is not known, but his commitment to this project is total, and he will allow nothing to get in his way. Captain-Mage Thevan Phoskis in games of Uncharted Seas: In any game where the players have agreed to allow the use of Captains of Renown, any Thaniras Elf fleet may field Thevan Phoskis as their Admiral. He must be assigned to the largest-sized ship in the fleet and will not serve on anything smaller than a Cruiser. If there are several ships that share the largest Size category, the player may choose which ship will carry the Admiral to battle. Captain-Mage Thevan Phoskis in Battle: Thevan Phoskis conveys the following special abilities upon his fleet: ANY time an opponent attempts to use a Counter Card to dispel a Magic Card being cast from the Captain-Mage’s ship, the Thaniras Elves player rolls a D6. On the result of a 4, 5 or 6, the Magic Card is NOT dispelled and the Counter Card is returned to its owner’s Hand. On any other result the Counter Card works as normal. The Cost of Greatness: It will cost nothing to field Captain-Mage Phoskis in any suitable game during the Cauldron of Silence campaign. However, in any other game, the Captain-Mage adds 30 points to the cost of whatever ship he is assigned to for MFV, Fleet Composition and Victory Points purposes.

Captains of Renown: Prince Azsraan Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Azsraan san Nar, Prince of Traal and Master of Sea and Sky Prince Azsraan was born to the noble house of Traal during the heady ascendancy of Great House Garran of Melkharn. Controlling the largest tracts of land within the domains of the Dragon Lords, House Garran were the masters of Old Principia and all of the resources, breeding grounds, and the not inconsiderable power of tradition reaching back to the great Catastrophe and beyond.

The other three Great Houses had struggled for centuries to keep the Garran in check, fending off every effort of the powerful House to instigate a vote for High Lord. But with the advent of the adventurers from over the Boiling Seas, the delicate balance of power had shifted precipitously. It was the fleets of the Garran that had met the first Imperial Human incursions, crushing the interlopers and sending the survivors fleeing back to their masters. With every battle, the star of the Garran rose, and the influence of the other families waned.

Azsraan san Nar The Nar of Traal were the least politically-minded of the Four Great Houses; content, for the most part, to reside within their mountain fastness and preside over the vast, dark forests of Traal and Sorylia. Within the shadows of the deep forests the mages and apothecaries of Traal harvest and compound a wide array of powders and spices that enhance and expand the abilities of Dragon Lord arch-mages, admirals, and shipwrights throughout the Dragon Lords’ domain. The vast majority of the Dragon Lords have depended upon these admixtures to maintain their hold on power for as long as living memory can recall. With the power and influence of this monopoly, the Nar could easily afford their lack of interest in the Dragon Lord political landscape. But this, too, changed with the arrival of the Nove, or New Ones. Great Lord Vannos san Nar, Lord of Traal, watched with frustration as the Garran met the Nove from the Shrouded Isles south to the Strait of Cerac. Each victory was cursed from the Tower of Mists, and as the Garran, swollen with victories and their own sense of self-importance, began to agitate for the election of a High Lord, Lord Vannos knew

that each day brought them closer and closer to open conflict for the first time in centuries. The Garran’s Cadres were larger than those of any other House, and had been accumulating experience and expertise in their battles with the Nove. Multiple invitations to the other Houses to engage in traditional factional melee to settle the question of supremacy had been delayed as long as possible. Great Lord Vannos, his detachment from the politics of the other Houses lending him a sense of legitimacy and honour, was unwillingly cast as the leader of the opposition. All of these developments were in their infancy when Great Lord Vannos welcomed his son and heir, Azsraan, into the world. From an early age the Prince of Traal was groomed for military command. His father, perhaps benefiting from the enhanced vision of the seers of Traal, gave his son every advantage in training and preparation for a life of military command. The Great House of Nar, always weak in the powers of sorcery, had compensated for this through martial prowess and an aggressive stance. Azsraan, with only a faint talent in clairvoyance, learned his lessons well and was appointed to command one of the defensive squadrons of Traal at an earlier age than any other commander in the history of the Dragon Lords. Azsraan learned to command his Subasha crew at the sharp point of the spear. The remnant races clinging to the west coast of Traal and Sorylia had been constantly at war with the Nar for centuries. These clashes provided the officers, crews, and marines with hard-won experience in life-or-death combat; leading his human warriors into battle honed Azsraan into a lethal weapon for the battles ahead. After his first decade in the defensive fleets, Azsraan was promoted by his father to the rank of commodore and given command of the first Eyrie Class Dragon Carrier built near Lamoran. Azsraan took to the Nogdra Dragons and their riders immediately. Although nominally the commanding officer of the Winged Fury, the Prince of Traal was fascinated with the reach and power conferred upon his vessel by the wings of Nogdra Dragons, and he would often ride with them personally on scouting and training missions. The pull of the sky was almost too much for the young commodore, and more than once his father reprimanded him for dereliction of duty. Time tempered his overwhelming need to fly with the squadrons, but he always took the opportunity whenever it arose.

Dragon Lords In the face of House Garran’s rising ambitions, Azsraan and his expanded fleet were eventually sent north and east, through the Straits of Usank and into the Cerac Sea. Whether his father’s orders actually stipulated his targets of choice was unknown, but almost immediately Azsraan began to attack Garran forces in the area as well as those fleets of the Nove. Since the Prince of Traal’s arrival, the fortunes of House Garran have stalled, and debate on the ascension of a High Lord has been suspended. It is uncommon for the Dragon Lords themselves to man ships sailing east of Principia, but the forces of Traal and Kalath, far from the depredations of the Nove, are far more inclined to meet their foes directly. Although still vanishingly rare upon most ships, larger vessels are usually commanded by a Dragon Lord personally, and of course all Nogdra Dragons are of the true kin. Aboard Winged Fury, Prince Azsraan is accompanied by a council of advisors and several arch-mages provided by his father and the Lords of Morgloth and Kalath. Given his years of experience and his natural talents, Azsraan is a consummate tactician and strategist, finally given a wider canvas upon which to paint his destiny. One of his favoured tactics is to shadow the enemy with Nogdra Dragons, before revealing an isolated larger target to them; manipulating the enemy into a battleground of his choosing, where his knowledge of the terrain, local currents and weather patterns will offer him every advantage. It is not unusual for a Nove captain, whether Imperial Human, Iron Dwarf, or Thaniras Elf, to plunge headfirst after what they believe to be a lone squadron of Moonbeam Destroyers or Shadow Cruisers, only to crash against a submerged reef or sandbar and to find themselves suddenly surrounded by eager Dragon Lord squadrons, the sky overhead filled with circling dragons. Although primarily focused upon the Nogdra wings for his long distance scouting and raiding, Prince Azsraan has been known to command a mighty Elder Dragon. Most reports assume this to be Staarji Zmaaj, a friend and advisor to his father Great Lord Vannos himself. The sight of this mighty creature, with its hide gleaming an emerald green, and ominous smoke pouring from its snout, is often enough to cause isolated

ships to surrender without a fight. When flying to battle surrounded by his smaller cousins, Staarji Zmaaj is truly a terrible sight to behold. Prince Azsraan of Traal in games of Uncharted Seas: In any game where the players have agreed to allow the use of Captains of Renown, any Dragon Lords Fleet may field Azsraan san Nar as their Admiral. He must be assigned to the largest ship in the Fleet. If a Midnight Flagship or Eyrie Class Dragon Carrier is available, Azsraan must be stationed on one of them. He will not serve on any vessel smaller than a Cruiser Prince Azsraan of Traal in Battle: Azsraan san Nar conveys the following special abilities upon his Fleet: After Terrain has been set-up for any battle, the Dragon Lords player may choose to either exchange any piece of Terrain on the Game Board for a Reef, or place a Sand Bar anywhere on the Game Board outside of any Deployment Zone. Cat and Mouse: If Small Class models make up less than 25% of the opposing Fleet, they roll 2D6 for Scouting. If Small Class models make up 25% or more of the opposing Fleet, they will roll 4D6 for Scouting. Scouting: Scouting rolls use the Exploding Dice mechanic. If the Scouting roll results in 4 or more successes, the Terrain is altered after Battlefield Set-Up but BEFORE Deployment. Otherwise, it is altered AFTER Deployment. The Cost of Greatness: It costs nothing to field Prince Azsraan san Nar in any suitable game during the Cauldron of Silence campaign. However, in any other game, the Prince of Traal adds 30 points to the cost of whatever ship he is assigned to for MFV, Fleet Composition and Victory Point purposes.

Captains of Renown: Dar’Vok Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Blood Reaver Dar’Vok, Tar’Nak of the Azure Hunt and Oathmaster of the Traargant Tek’Far Contemporary Ralgard culture is in shambles. For a thousand years they were the dominant force upon the continent of Gamorria, marching to war during the season of Low Water and subjugating entire races across the continent, then marching back to dark jungles of Traargant with the rewards of warfare. However, several centuries ago this venerable pattern was disturbed by the advent of a powerful race of newcomers…

Blood Reaver Dar'Vok After the bloody confrontation upon the fields of Zjun’Tar, the Ralgard had their confidence shaken to its very core. The essence of their pride and identity as the masters of all they encountered was shattered upon the brazen shield walls and powerful enchantments of the interlopers from across the seas. A generation of Ralgard warriors was left upon the bloody fields, and after a day and a night of negotiation, the Ralgard nation rose from its knees as a client state of an invading power. The clan structure of the Ralgard would not support the immense efforts required by their new overlords, and so the entire culture was rebuilt from the family unit outward. Discipline was instilled within the ranks, and new technologies and tactical concepts

were introduced. Their new lords, intent on nothing less than the domination of Gamorria, pushed forward once again with the legions of the Ralgard leading the way. Nation after nation fell beneath the blades of the giant warrior race and their new masters, and the Ralgard enjoyed a position of power and authority the likes of which they had never been able to achieve on their own. But as the old ways faded away, replaced by the cold calculation of the new age, the clan structure of Ralgard society suffered. The once-fluid system, based upon the raw prowess and tactical acumen of individual warriors constantly tested in battle, was torn down with nothing to replace it but rank structure and chain of command. The leadership line of the clans was frozen, with those who had been in power on the day of the Field of Blood maintaining their position and prestige through the manipulation and decree of their new overlords. Noble lines emerged, titles that were once the proud trophies of elite warriors became nothing more than sinecures passed down to untested children. Even though the Ralgard, as a people, prospered as never before, their culture and the core of their spirits was crushed beneath the necessities of empire. The heart of the Ralgard people has never been completely reconciled to the new condition. Unrest and secret conservative brotherhoods abound. Their overlords, seeing this turmoil within their strongest allies and subjects moved to curtail the festering of the social wound by bringing the trappings and the rituals of old Traargant back into prominence. But those stubbornly opposed to the new society saw through these actions as the tricks that they were. To this day there are secret fraternities who keep the old ways alive, remembering the glory of the Ralgard standing alone against a continent of cowering foes, and they yearn for a return to those simpler, grander days. The position of Blood Reaver was, in the ancient times, that of second-in-command of the armies of Traargant. It was the Blood Reaver who commanded the vanguard and pushed ahead of the main force as they crossed the land bridge at Low Water, securing the passage for the rest of the forces and then moving on to attack those enemies attempting to prepare for the Ralgard onslaught. Today, however, it is a hereditary position conveyed upon the first born son of the Tal’Nak, or Overlord of Traargant. For nearly three centuries it has been this way, and yet there are those who remember fondly the days when the title of Blood Reaver was earned through feat of arms and bravery in battle, not bestowed at birth upon a puling infant.

The Ralgard The current Blood Reaver was approached at a very early age by the adherents of the old ways. Several of his teachers and instructors were secret devotees of the ancient paths, and the young prince was reared on stories of Ralgard strength and independence, and of the merit of the old ways. By the time Dar’Vok was old enough to assume his first command, that of a Shar’Nak leading fifty warriors chosen specifically by his instructors, he was an ardent believer as well. Blood Reaver Dar’Vok was ordered south with his Kek’Rar, to bolster the forces of his father as they sought to quell a particularly vicious uprising within one of the overlord’s client states. Dar’Vok’s forces were transported down the coast upon a Raknarl Heavy Cruiser, and the young prince was captivated by the power and beauty of the vessel, and the enormous strength the tri-barrel cannons represented. He had never sailed upon a Ralgard ship of war before, and his heart was immediately lost to glorious visions of commanding such a powerful vessel alone upon the sea. In the subsequent battles his Kek’Rar fought well, and he distinguished himself admirably. He was unable to hide his disdain for the Ralgard’s masters, however, and for his own father who seemed to kowtow to their every whim. Tensions built between father and son, as the Overlord of Traargant realized that his son had been subverted by the traditionalist vipers in his midst. Dar’Vok was ordered to return to Traargant at once, and swift messengers were sent by balloonship to Yaari that those advisors guilty of corrupting the crown prince could be swiftly silenced and brought to justice. However, when the overlord’s warriors rushed into the palace to seize the instructors, they were already gone. Not long after, the Tal’Nak discovered that his son had not returned to Traargant, but instead had taken command of the Kalor Cruiser upon which he was journeying, ostensibly to oversee anti-pirate operations in the southern seas. Dar’Vok rose swiftly in the naval service, earning the respect and admiration of his warriors, both the marine Dar’Nak and the Bal’Nak in charge of the guns and the actual running of the ships. He had never lost his knack for infantry battles, however, and it is said that a boarding action choreographed by the Master of the Azure Hunt is a thing of beauty. Dar’Vok is now of an age where he should be returning to Traargant to assume the responsibilities and duties of the crown prince. Rather than follow this new tradition, however, the Blood Reaver has assumed command of a massive fleet that was being marshalled to push northward, retracing the ancient path of their masters. The captains set to lead the expedition were eager to have the prince command them, not knowing of the mounting pressures from Traargant for him to return home. The prince has already been declared the Oathmaster for the fleets, ironically tasked with ensuring the fidelity of the warriors under his command to the ancient Blood Oath that binds them to their masters. But Dar’Vok is convinced that if he can fully grasp the glory and the honour made possible by this new endeavour, it will convey upon him the prestige and authority to confront his father and seize command of the Ralgard, to forge a new, and independent, destiny for his people. Blood Reaver Dar’Vok of the Azure Hunt in games of Uncharted Seas:

In any game where the players have agreed to allow the use of Captains of Renown, any Ralgard fleet may field the Blood Reaver as their Admiral. He must be assigned to the largest-sized ship in the fleet and will not serve on anything smaller than a Cruiser. Blood Reaver Dar’Vok in Battle: Dar’Vok conveys the following special abilities upon his fleet: Blood Reaver: In all boarding actions involving Dar’Vok’s ship the Ralgard player may re-roll ALL dice rolls of 1, from any ship involved in the boarding action. These dice may only be re-rolled once regardless of the second result or the use of any cards. Master of the Hunt: Once per game Dar’Vok may, instead of using his Blood Reaver ability, focus solely on the performance of a single ship nearby. The Ralgard player may, any time he activates a Squadron within Range Band 1 of the Fleet Admiral’s Vessel, re-roll ANY of the dice used in a Ram action involving ONE ship from that Squadron. The Cost of Greatness: It will cost nothing to field Blood Reaver Dar’Vok in any suitable game during the Cauldron of Silence campaign. However, in any other game, the Blood Reaver adds 30 points to the cost of whatever ship he is assigned to for MFV, Fleet Composition and Victory Point purposes.

Admirals of The Broad Blue Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Captains’ Logs, Entry 1 Like many gaming groups out there, our first exposure to Spartan Games was with its very first game: Uncharted Seas. Many of us bought into it wholeheartedly, buying the mega bundles or grabbing the blisters as quickly as they came off the boats. Russ and I at the D6 Generation podcast went in halvsies on the mega bundle, and I started my first two fleets: Dragon Lords and Iron Dwarves. Of course, several months later when the Thaniras Elves came out, I had three. That year the D6G did our first convention event, and there was nothing we were more excited about than Uncharted Seas, and so our first ever Not Too Horrible Live Event was the Capture the Elves Mega-Battle at TempleCon in Rhode Island, way back in 2009. And we’ve been big fans ever since. We’ve done major events featuring all three

offerings from Spartan Games, and each year is bigger, louder, and more fun than the last.

Thaniras Elves But also, like many gaming groups, once Dystopian Wars came out our little sailboats got hoisted into dry dock and languished there for awhile. However, we always remembered our first Spartan love, and the models always sailed out again every now and then, even if those battles might be months apart. But when Spartan Neil asked if I would like to captain (see what I did there?) a project that would allow my friends to spend a solid month playing Uncharted Seas, focusing on some really fluffy, cool scenarios that would tell a broad story whilst we rushed about the white-caps trying to blast each other to flinders, how could I say no? So I recruited a small core group from my wider band of Spartan Loyalists, the guys who were particularly eager to jump in for some fantasy-ship-combat-goodness and interested in collecting the fleets I wanted to focus on for this particular project, and we were off! The guys were SUPER excited, as was I, to see where this Month of Uncharted Seas would take us! Hopefully you have read the short story featuring the wandering Chronicler Dragos Koranyi? We’re about to follow him into a particularly nasty situation that will see many different factions within the Uncharted Seas world battling it out for clues and trying to track down the dastardly raiders that have murdered and pillaged their way across this vague, unidentified section of the Broad Blue. There will be a series of battles that will start small and get progressively larger over the course of a month, until we’re playing with truly epic sized fleets (for our gaming tables, anyway!). The ultimate goal of this escalating campaign is to field fleets of 1,000 points against each other in a little less than a month. Luckily, the beautifully sculpted models of Spartan Games paint up quick, and really reward just a couple of easy to learn techniques that we’ll also be sharing with you over the course of the next few weeks.

Bone Griffons So what you’re going to see over the next several weeks will be a series of articles that will share the full event, and open it to anyone else who would enjoy a quick four battle arc campaign. We’ll start with short stories that give the background and interim plot line of the campaign, then each week we’ll include reports of the players themselves, their exploits in painting and playing, and highlighted moments within the games. Each week will include a Battle Report from the focus battle in that week’s narrative, and of course the mission, with all of its special rules, winning conditions, and rewards, so you can play along! And something special for the event: Captains of Renown! Each faction will get a special Captain of Renown, with background fluff, rules, and points cost, that can be used during YOUR campaign, or any other game of Uncharted Seas in which your opponent agrees to the use of Captains of Renown. Each captain will be a stalwart example of his race, an experienced mariner with an added edge that will see him press onward to his destined greatness… Or not. Sometimes, even for Captains of Renown, things do not always work out. These captains will be free if used during the campaign in the prescribed fashion, but will have a points cost to offset their benefits in wider games. Now, we can’t dump all of this stuff on you guys in one go, so it will be posted in manageable pieces that will keep the month chugging along at a nice, steady pace. Each week you will get a mission you can play, no matter what factions you field, and then, by the end of the month, you can string them all together into a narrative campaign. The only thing you will lack, if you wish to do this as the missions are made available, will be the Captains of Renown, but I might suggest that you play around with the new missions as they come out, and then, once all four Captains have been announced, you could start the campaign. Also, I know folks are going to be disappointed if their faction isn’t one of the first four to get Captains of Renown. Well, suffice it to say that these four giants of the maritime world are only the beginning, and anyone disappointed this month will be very happy in another month!

So now, without further ado, let me introduce you to the guys, and give a little insight into where we are coming from, and what we’ve been doing to get ready for the big event: We are all gamers from the wilds of New Hampshire, in the USA. Most of us have been gaming with each other for over a decade (some more than two decades, and two of us have known each other since we met, playing with Star Wars figures, on the sidelines of our siblings’ first soccer match). Russ Wakelin and I are the hosts of the general gaming podcast The D6 Generation, and our friend Ian Clark is one of the hosts of the new, up & coming geek culture podcast, Nerdherders. Jeremy, aka the Sherpa, is one of those guys every good gaming group seems to have; he’s the acquisition specialist. Jeremy gets all the cool new gadgets, prints out all the cool new player aids, and generally will carry anything for you that you ask him to carry. Rounding out this little group is our friend Chris, a hockey player who wandered into the store one day and couldn’t find his way out again. He’s gone from a ‘what’s this now?’ to a ‘so what should my third fleet be?’ in record time, though, so we’ll forgive him his unsavoury athletic ways. Finally, we have, technically, my oldest friend in the world, Pete. We’ve come a long way since our heady days in the mud while our siblings kicked around a ball, but we’re still playing with little toys!

Now, who’s fielding what, and why? Well, let’s start with me! I’m fielding Thaniras Elves… Again! I loved the old models, and really lavished them with some extra love and attention, and they now pale beside the new models! Besides, who doesn’t want to field those sleek, lovely dragons! So I got all the new ships and dug right in to paint them as quickly as I could!

Imperial Humans Russ had, for his original fleets, Orc Raiders and Imperial Humans. Two fleets that really benefited from the new sculpts. He wanted to revisit his Humans, and so jumped in with a starter and a couple of other blisters to get moving.

Ian, for another project that we were working on last fall, collected a whole bunch of Bone Griffons. Which is very impressive considering Ian never plays any game that is still actively supported by a company; we don’t call him the Necro-gamer for nothing. But he took to the Undead… Wait a minute… Anyway, he took to them like an animated zombie duck to stagnant water, and he’s been nigh on unstoppable since. But for this project I needed something new for him, so he started, from scratch, a Ralgard fleet with a size to make you cry! Conversely, Jeremy had a full (and mostly painted) Ralgard fleet, but wanted to start an Imperial Human fleet… And immediately proceeded to do so! His ships will feature, mostly painted, in the first battle report, and you’ll see what a high level of detail he holds himself to in every project that he does. They are awesome-looking, and we have great hopes for his fully painted 1000 fleet. Chris (having just finished his first miniature games painting project ever; his Shroud Mages fleet) jumped at the chance to start another fleet, and so went all in with the Dragon Lords. Not only scooping up the starter, but everything else available in the range as well. Chris has been having a field day with his glossy sails and deck-mounted ballistae. And Pete, of course, who has always gravitated towards the ‘Over-Dog’, you might say, in any universe we’ve come to game in, fell in love at first play with the Dragon Lords last summer. Cool magic, they look like giant bipedal dragons, and they don’t have to deal with the pesky wind. Pete was immediately ready to sign up as a Subasha cabin boy on the spot. It’s been a goodly while since Pete has been painting minis, but he’s falling back into it with a will, and although it has not been easy on his back (none of us as young as we once were), he’s been loving the results!

The Ralgard And that’s our happy little band! Now, Russ hasn’t had a lot of luck getting any games in, but the rest of us have been painting like madmen, and rushing around on the tabletop snatching prizes, charted the uncharted, and generally targeting each other from 32” out and closing.

The first mission, Red Sky in the Morning, is a skirmish mission that only requires 300 points to be painted, all of which must be Small or Medium, with no Special ships allowed. So with light hearts and blood in our eyes, we bent our brushes to the task, with visions of flaming oil-slicks and rains of charred timbers roiling in our brains. Keep your eyes peeled for our next update.

Admirals of the Broad Blue (Part 2) Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Click here to read Part 1 of the Admirals of the Broad Blue So, a week in and things are looking good. Almost everyone got their first games in, and the painting is proceeding apace. It’s been a little tough, as there have been a variety of challenges that have arisen in scheduling, as there always are when you’re trying to put together a campaign like this, but we’re moving forward nicely. First this week I’d like to talk a little bit about how WE play Uncharted Seas here in southern New Hampshire. Most of the guys in our group are what you could call ‘seasoned veterans’, meaning we’re closer to booking into a home for the elderly than we’d like to admit. We really enjoy fast and furious 1-2 hour games, rather than the 8+ hours we might have managed in our youth. Plus our home lives tend to impact us vanishing for days on end to game! This inclination towards fast and bloody battles has shaped how we play in several ways. We usually don’t venture too much higher than around 1000 points in our games, and sometimes play a little fast and loose with movement (rather than calculating every angle with a compass and a slide rule). We also focus on missions that have a specific set of goals or a well-defined end-time; usually around 5 or 6 turns, which makes deployment and manoeuvre that much more important. And so these first two battles, at 300 and 500 points, took us around an hour to an hour and a half to play, tops. We were looking for multiple games a night, and taking notes and pictures and such, but for the most part we were jetting through like normal, having a grand old time and racing through as many games as possible. So, let’s check in with the guys, and see what’s up. Russ is our campaign’s first ‘Real Life’ casualty. Russ’ business schedule has kept him from playing on our regular days, and his painting, without the constant goading of peers, has suffered. However, he HAS been focusing on a nice centre piece that will feature in some pictures soon for the Week 3 mission.

Chris, our hockey-hooligan, is easily the most excited player still. For an earlier project he had bought and painted a HUGE Shroud Mage fleet, and when I told him we wouldn’t be focusing on them this time around, he got all excited and jumped in with the Dragon Lords! He was the first to have his full 1000 point fleet painted, and is now eagerly looking for more models to paint.

Dragon Lords As for the fleet build for the first mission, he says: “When choosing my Dragon Lords fleet for ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ I wanted to aim for speed. Having only 300 points to work with I felt the smaller the better, so I opted to use two squads of frigates and one squad of cruisers. This allowed me to spread out a little more, with more ramming options. I was worried about medium ships sinking small ships in collisions and therefore sinking my VP’s with them, so having the smaller ships allowed for more chances at boarding actions with less chance of sinking my prizes. My Imperial Human arch nemesis, Jeremy, surely felt my small model wrath as he sailed to the ends of the earth in his inferior human ships!” Chris was the Dragon Lords admiral from last week’s battle report, and despite how much damage he took, because of the victory conditions of the mission, Chris eked out a win, having taken and escaped with more Imperial Human ships (in the end the humans only managed to capture a single frigate…). Jeremy is easily the match of Chris for excitement in almost all things, and only SLIGHTLY edged out in Uncharted Seas, Chris’ first and primary miniatures love. Jeremy had been waiting for the Imperial Humans to arrive locally, and at once began to paint them to his very high standards. He had some scheduling issues pop up, but he’s nearly done with his 1000 point final fleet also, and it’s looking really nice. Oh, a quick note should be inserted here that we agreed you don’t HAVE to keep your previous list and merely add ships to bring it to the next level. Although most of us did that to a certain extent to keep the painting goals reasonable, your fleets in each Mission could be completely different and tailored to the needs of the moment.

But to hear from the great Sherpa himself: “I was very excited to take part in this project and field the new, re-sculpted Imperial Humans. The models really call to me, looking the most like traditional Age of Sail ships. Starting from scratch, I thought a lot about my overall paint scheme, but in the end I liked the studio scheme so much that I just modified it slightly, using a few different techniques and more of a turquoise blue than a royal blue for the sails. I can’t wait to grow this force with the campaign and try a lot of the Imperial Human special units like Martyr Frigates, Assault Balloons and the impressive Flagship!”

Imperial Humans As for the first battle, “I had some tough decisions when choosing my Imperial Human fleet for ‘Red Sky in the Morning’. Since I was starting with a blank slate, I decided to go with a minimum sized Hawk Class Cruiser squadron of 2 ships. Then it was a choice of Falcon Class Frigates, Kestrel Class Destroyers, Martyr Class Frigates or some combination of them. I should probably have stayed on mission and chosen at least one squadron of Destroyers, but was so eager to field Martyr Class Frigates, that I chose a full squadron of 4, and then rounded my fleet out with a squadron of 3 Falcon Class Frigates.” “And you’ve now seen how well THAT did! In a mission where the objective is to board and capture enemy ships… Perhaps blowing them up in a mutually destructive eruption of wood and flesh… Not the best plan?” “In the end, though the Martyr’s were great fun to use, I should have probably saved them for the 2nd mission and used the Destroyers instead. The greatly despised Captain Byrgall Tologaan hasn’t seen the last of Captain Garrik “The Spear” Arkos. Reinforcements are on the horizon!” Pete has always loved dragons (what? no joke…?) and the idea of being able to field basically an aircraft carrier for the scaled beasties was a deal-maker for him. Well, that and the whole ‘wind issue.’ But I’ll let Captain Ahab tell you about that himself: “I was very excited to be invited to Craig’s latest Uncharted Seas campaign. I decided on the Dragon Lords for three reasons: 1) as a real wet-ocean sailor for almost four decades, I’m enthusiastic about not being enslaved to the wind; 2) I love sharks, and the Sunset

Frigates look like a school of sharks moving in for the kill; and 3) the Eyrie Carrier. Dragons launched off a ship like flame-throwing P-51 Mustangs? YES PLEASE.” “For the initial missions, force composition was fairly easy because the Dragon Lords only have two options for small ships. Since I had a starter fleet and Moonbeam Destroyers on hand, that’s what got painted first. I don’t consider myself a particularly skilled painter, but the clean lines of the Dragon Lord ships really inspired me to elevate my game, and I think I succeeded. My colour palate was driven by obsession; I’ve been hoarding an old bottle of metallic green for literally decades, waiting for just the right project. It’s a shade that makes a magnificent dragon-skin, and I knew that would be perfect for my sails.” In the first mission Pete faced off against Chris, using our local store’s fleet, the Imperial Humans. Pete was very aggressive with his cruisers, blowing stuff up left and right… And forgetting the mission. He managed to lose, so Chris was victorious there too, proving himself the king of Mission 1!

The Ralgard Ian, our Ralgard player, and I faced off as the final pairing for Mission 1. It started out as a total fiasco, as my Cobra Class Cruisers swept forward towards his advanced squad and in a swirl of graceful, curved blades… We wiped each other out to the last giant warrior and pointy-eared effete. Suddenly my two most powerful ships were left drifting in the gentle current. Things did not improve much; I managed to take a single frigate and sail it off while he could not catch my last frigate as it slipped behind an island to hide from his nearly unscratched guns. I lost all but that frigate, but had managed to capture his ship, and so squeak out a victory. Ian was excited to get his newest ships into the Broad Blue. “I am very pleased to be fielding the Ralgard for this campaign. Not only do the ships and flyers look great, but imagining hordes of battle-tested warriors spilling out onto the decks of enemy ships during boarding actions really adds a great level of cinematic flair to the Ralgard and that’s something I can get behind.”

Thaniras Elves As for myself… Well, my elves are coming along nicely. That first battle was actually with my original sculpts, but I now have finished up my painting through Mission 3, and can’t wait to field some larger ships and bigger squadrons! Putting together my fleet for Mission 2, where speed will be of the essence, I know I’m going to get as many Crow Class Destroyers in there with my frigates as I can, so wind will be less of an issue for me. I wanted to go against type with the painting, keeping things dark and brooding. I love that the elves in the Uncharted Seas are bullies (aren’t they all?) with the tree-hugger veneer almost completely rubbed off and I wanted to paint them up to show that. I have also been haunted by the image of the magical spheres being coloured like the Thaniras Elves symbol… So I did that too! Going into the second week of battles we are all very excited, as the Mission now allows for larger fleets (although still no large ships), AND a coveted Special slot! I know Pete’s looking forward to fielding the Invoker cruiser, while Ian’s been eyeing his balloons, and I’m just ITCHING to get my Thunderbird into the middle of a big squadron of frigates! So it’s onwards and outwards, now, to Mission 2. Our stalwart Captains of Renown will lead their own advance forces into the uncharted heart of the Cauldron of Silence, where only the dead know what awaits them!

Admirals of the Broad Blue (Part 3) Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas As you know from this week’s introduction, the focal battle this week is between the dreaded overlords of the New World, the Dragon Lords, and the eternal warriors, the Thaniras Elves. While we were playing out this battle, another battle was being waged on an adjacent table between Ian’s Ralgard and Chris’ Dragon Lords. Jeremy and his Imperial Humans were left off the table as he played the role of photographer for the rest of us, but he was a good sport, took some great pictures of both tables, and knew he would be the featured opponent in the final battle.

The Ralgard and Dragon Lords To give you a little background regarding the local campaign, and how you might want to work with your group to put together your own, we should speak for a moment about the social dynamic under which we labour. There were several local folks itching to get involved, but for one reason or another had to miss this one out. Matt, our local Orc Raiders player, was involved with another campaign. Brian, our Iron Dwarves player, was eager but his fleet wasn’t one of the featured factions this time around, so instead I gave him a Guardian Class Floating Citadel to paint up for today’s blog entry. Ryan, another of our Uncharted Seas players, who plays Shroud Mages, found himself ‘offfaction’ this time around, but was more than happy to step in for several games.

Iron Dwarves Guardian Class Floating Citadel The way all of these things interact within the campaign is something you need to put a little thought into before entering into the Cauldron of Silence campaign. If you have a total of four players who want to play, then you’re all set. Each of you can play whatever fleets you want (although I’d suggest, if possible, you play with the factions of focus this time around), and you play your games amongst the four of you as evenly as you can. Each of you should play the other factions at least once, and there will, of course, be one of your three opponents who will play a second time. At least, that’s what my staff mathematicians say… I’m not so good at math myself.

Thaniras Elves Record how many Victory Points you earned in each battle. Multiply Mission One Victory Points by 25, and that’s how many Campaign Victory Points you earned. For Mission Two, multiply your total Victory Points by 50 to find your Campaign Points. For Missions Three and Four you will use the straight up Victory Points earned in both missions. Whoever earned the most Campaign Victory Points after the four games is the winner. Bragging rights and drinks on them! However, what if you’ve got more than four guys who want to play? For instance, we had six to start with. Well, as long as you’ve got an even number of players who want to be involved, you’re still going to be all set. Just make sure everyone gets their games in and you’ll be good to go. This small campaign is designed so that any number of players can play as long as they are all getting their games in. The Victory Points structure should be granular enough that a tie is highly unlikely. You might have to play a tie-breaker in the unlikely event that one occurs, or you might even want to designate a range of victories. Say, within 200 Victory Points is a tie and must be broken with a fifth game. Any excuse to get another game in, right?

Shallows What if you have an odd number of players, or if you have a player who cannot make it one week? Well, these are the things that every campaign organizer has to deal with. There are a couple ways to counter these issues. You can allow your players to play multiple games and only count the best result. This allows odd-men-out to play games also, and so having an even number doesn’t matter. You might want to structure this a little bit, however, as the danger here is that all of your players will play until they have a win before moving on. You might allow, for instance, the ‘odd-man-out’ to play the person who scored the lowest in that mission, and thus give them a chance of redemption. Or you might put a time limit on getting your games in. Players with the stamina to play multiple battles will be rewarded with theoretically higher scores (although dividing total VP’s by the number of battles played evens this out), and everyone who wants to play will have a chance. The ultimate goal here is for YOU to tailor this to YOUR group, so that you all have a highly enjoyable experience. So go with whatever makes the most sense.

Sargasso What about the players who cannot complete a mission, for whatever reason? The easiest solution, of course, is that they get zero Victory Points and no Strategic Benefits moving into the next battle. However, often that puts them at a disadvantage out of proportion with having missed a single game. For instance, whereas if you win Mission One you start with a 2 VP token already in your possession, if you didn’t get a chance to play, then you’re starting the game 2 VP down. In that instance often we’ll allow the laggard who didn’t get the game in to roll a die, and on a 5+ count it as if he won, and so give him the bonus. We don’t do this often, but if we all agree, it’s a quick and fast solution that doesn’t punish folks for having busy lives.

Reef and Shallow And so that’s how we’re dealing with little things like victory, defeat, and absenteeism in our campaign. We’ve really been blessed with a dynamic and excited group of guys, though, so it’s very seldom a problem getting those games in.

Admirals of the Broad Blue (pt. 4) Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas One of the most interesting and inspiring things about this project, for me, has been the effort my friends have put into making this campaign a success. Even folks who already had Uncharted Seas fleets decided to collect all new forces for this campaign. For example, Chris, whose original fleet is Shroud Mages, and Ian, who’s been collecting Bone Griffons since a little project we worked on last fall, both seized the opportunity to build new fleets. Pete, in particular, deserves to be singled out, because not only was this his first real foray into the Uncharted Seas, but his Dragon Lords fleet is the first miniatures game force he’s ever completely painted. And we’re talking about a guy who got into gaming, with me, over 20 years ago. It’s mildly shocking that he didn’t go with elves, always his first love, but he does find it difficult dealing with the wind. I asked the guys to provide me with some of their thoughts now that we’ve completed our month-long sojourn upon the Broad Blue, and I thought I’d share them with you all. You can also see the fleets we completed along the way.

Chris (Dragon Lords) managed to finish his force three weeks early. Chris had his force down so soon, he was unable to adapt to new events on the gaming table; when he saw Pete’s Eyrie Carrier and its Nogdra Dragons, he really wished he’d had the time to add them to his collection, “Those little guys seemed to be quite the perfect distraction to make things turn in your favour.” His favourite moment was “when Jeremy tried sinking my cruisers right off the bat with his Martyr Frigates in game one and failed to do so. Then, while he continued to focus on sinking them, my last ditch efforts to ram his ship gained me a prize.” He really enjoyed sticking with one fleet through several games, and gained much from collaborating with more experienced painters, learning how to pick out the finer details of the models with techniques like dry brushing and inking.

Chris' Dragon Lords Pete (Dragon Lords) had a great time with his wind-ignoring fleet. In fact, the most memorable moment for him in the campaign was a game he didn’t even play in, but rather the big final battle between The Ralgard and the Imperial Humans in which the Ralgard were beating directly into the wind for almost the entire battle. The constant comments about inferior technologies and being slaves to the wind were near non-stop at that point. It will come as no surprise to those of you who have followed this adventure that Pete’s ‘Model of the Match’ is the Eyrie Dragon Carrier. “It’s costly, but the Nogdra Dragons really pull their weight. Dump them into the air on the first activation, and all of a sudden you have got a two-activation tactical advantage over a lot of opponents. The dragons are fast, mobile and hard-to-hit.”

Pete's Dragon Lords Ian (Ralgard) fell in love with his Ralgard despite his earlier devotion to the Bone Griffons. The style of the ships, their rugged construction, and the character of their cards were big plusses for him.

Ian's Ralgard Ian’s favourite moment in the campaign came in the very last battle and, without giving anything away, it was truly an explosive moment. Ian is looking forward to painting the Ralgard Flagship (which he ordered after the campaign finished), and the Jarak War Balloon, as these will give him more Large options in future campaigns. But lest anyone

doubt his dedication to the Bone Griffons, he recently acquired even more of those gruesome fellows, refusing to leave them behind. Jeremy (Imperial Humans) did the lion’s share of painting this time around. He rushed to finish his Ralgard fleet when this project first came up, then switched to the Imperial Humans, painted up a little over 1000 points of them AND painted the three beautiful ships representing our ‘villains’ in the final battle (have to wait a bit longer to see those). Other than a few mistakes in fleet composition early in the campaign (taking those Martyrs in game one, notably), Jeremy was strong throughout. In the final game, advantage see-sawed back and forth throughout, and we had no idea who would end up victorious. His favourite moment in the campaign was the same moment as Ian: during the last battle. What he found, personally, was that he loves playing Uncharted Seas but enjoys it even more with linked campaigns like this.

Jeremy's Imperial Humans And then there’s me (Thaniras Elves). This was my first opportunity to paint models from the new line. I loved my first edition Elves, with the big sails that allowed for some nice free-hand opportunities, but I find the new models to be, quite simply, stunning. The ships still work very much as their 1st variant counterparts, of course, so I had an advantage over the other guys who were learning new fleets (not that it did me a lick of good). I also collect, and have played extensively with, Dragon Lords; that should have given me an advantage but, alas, I was pummeled mercilessly. My most surprising moment, without a doubt, was watching the Nogdra Dragons heroically scorch my War Dragons out of the sky. It would have been worth it, though, if I managed to smash the last HP off the darned Carrier!

Craig's Thaniras Elves What I most get out of the games are the stories that develop, win or lose, as the dice tumble across the table. My favourite part of this enticing adventure has been sharing with all of you the magical, cinematic stories that these battles represent. But that’s not why we spent a month sailing the Uncharted Seas. We’ve been attacking each other with magical spheres of lightning, exploding ballistae bolts and cannon balls for weeks on end to see who would emerge victorious. I went into a lot more detail on this in Admirals of the Broad Blue Part III, so I’d recommend going there for my suggestion on how to run the entire campaign. Mission One, ‘Red Sky in the Morning’, is worth 25 times the Victory Points you earned in the mission. Mission Two, ‘Into the Silent Sea’, is worth 50 times the VP you earned, and for Missions Three and Four, ‘Fixed and Glassy Eyes’ and ‘The Heave and the Halt and the Hurl and the Crash’ (coming soon), you will earn VP towards the campaign equal to the VP you earned in those missions. Whoever has gained the most Victory Points by the end of the last game is your winner! Our winner was a close call, but Chris, with his dedication and commitment, eventually came out on top. In fact, he beat Jeremy in Mission 1, Pete in Mission 2, and Ian in Mission 3. He and I did not cross paths, but I have no doubt he’d beat me as well. So, winning every game (including a squeeker against Pete in the last Mission), our newbie finished undefeated! We all had a really great time and hope you have enjoyed following along too. We look forward to our next chance to sail the waters of the Broad Blue with our Captains of Renown and perhaps earn a more honourable place in the Chronicles of Dragos Koranyi… Wherever he ended up…

Mission: Red Sky in the Morning Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas The first Mission in The Cauldron of Silence campaign. Mysterious reavers have struck outposts and commercial ships across a vast expanse of the Uncharted Seas. From the pattern of the attacks, the commanders in the area believe they know the general area from which the bloody raids have originated. Scouting forces have been dispatched to discover the base of these remorseless pirates. It is pure bad luck when two of these scouting forces find each other and certain bloody assumptions are made. The Combatants Any two fleets. Forces Each player will field a Fleet of 300 points, made up entirely of Small and Medium models, and MUST contain at least one Squadron of each. Prelude to Battle Terrain is deployed as normal on a 4′ x 4′ Game Board, with the addition of a Medium Size island in the centre. Uncharted Heroes Who would send a hero on a scouting mission? Special Rules A Chance Encounter: Before deployment, each player secretly chooses one Squadron from their OPPONENT’S Fleet. As their first deployment, each player will place that ENEMY squadron anywhere entirely within 6” of the central island. The Squadron deployed by the second player CANNOT be placed with Line of Sight to the Squadron deployed by the first. The owning player may choose the facing of each model after it is placed. Continue deployment as normal. The Squadrons CANNOT be placed in contact with Terrain, or so that a Collision would be unavoidable when the Squadron Activates. Moving Off: If a model begins its Activation unable to move due to being in contact with a friendly or Derelict model, it may be rotated in place the minimum amount so that it can move off freely in the following Turn. Remember: If two or more ships are involved in Boarding Actions to mutual destruction, all Derelicts involved will remain stationary until boarded by further crew. Information is Victory: All models taken as Prizes are not removed from the Game Board as normal, but are Activated in subsequent turns by the currently owning player as long as he has allocated at least one Crew Point to remain on the ship. They do not need to maintain coherency and do not count as a Squardon for the purposes of determining Game Card Hand Size. These models move as normal, but may take no other actions. These models may move off the Game Board edge for no penalty.

Tactical Goals and Strategic Rewards 

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Take an enemy ship as a Prize to question survivors as to the whereabouts of the pirates. o Each model taken as a Prize is worth 1 VP. o Each Captured model successfully moved off the Game Board, or still owned by the end of the game, is worth a further 1 VP. Stop the enemy from leaving with vital information. o Sink the enemy’s entire force for 4 VP. o If no enemy-held Prize ships escaped off the Board, gain 1 VP.

The Conclusion The game lasts for 5 turns. Calculate the victor using Victory Points as above. The winning player receives one 2 VP token to be deployed on any ship in his fleet in the next mission. The ship must survive the battle for the VPs to be awarded. The Field of Battle The battle takes place on a 4′ x 4′ table with a Medium Size island in the centre. Other Terrain should be placed according to local custom.

Mission Map (on a 4ft x 4ft gaming table) A Word on Terrain Each gaming group has its own way of placing terrain. Here we have adopted and adapted a method found on the old Spartan Games forum. Basically, we roll 1d6 for the number of terrain pieces on a 4×4 table, and 1D6+2 for 4′ x 6′. This is the Terrain Pool. We then dice off, and the winner chooses any one item from the local collection to go into the Terrain Pool. Once the Pool is complete, we dice off again, with the winner choosing any single piece from the Pool (whether or not he placed it there), and rolling a D8 (the game DOES say you should have a D8). The piece is placed so that the CENTRE is a number of inches from the centre of the board equal to the die roll x4, along the line indicated by the top of the D8 (look at one, you’ll understand). The player placing the piece chooses the orientation. No terrain piece may be closer than 6” from any previously placed piece or the board edge, and must be moved the minimum distance necessary to maintain that spacing. Click here to go to The Cauldron of Silence main page

Mission: Into The Silent Sea Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Into the Silent Sea Following hints and portents, the forces pursue the mysterious pirates deep into unknown waters. Larger ships have been sent for, but before they can come ahead the way must be cleared in this new region that has known neither sail nor oar before. Each captain knows that there are others who track the pirates, and with each new sighting of pursuit the legend spreads. Tales of priceless treasure and fantastical artefacts grow with each retelling, and every man, from the highest commodore to the lowliest sailor, yearns to claim the prize. The Combatants: Any two fleets. Forces: Each player will field fleets of 500 points. Each fleet MUST include at least ONE Squadron of Small and ONE Squadron of Medium models, and MAY include one squadron or attachment from the Special category. No Large models are allowed in this mission. Prelude to Battle

Terrain is deployed as normal on a 6’x4’ Game Board. A Token is placed in the very centre of the Game Board, and then two more placed along the centre line one foot away towards either short edge. Six Tokens of a different colour are then placed a foot to either side of the three original Tokens, creating a grid of nine dominating the centre of the Game Board, as shown in the Field of Battle diagram below. Deployment is 8” out from either long edge of the Game Board. Uncharted Heroes Each fleet may contain one Captain of Renown, deployed upon one Medium Sized model. Special Rules: Charting the Unknown: Each Token represents a region that needs to be charted. The first model to pass directly over (or under) a Token claims it. The Token stays with the model throughout the game. Should the model be removed from play for any reason, the Token will return to the closest empty point that had held a Token of the same colour. Charts and Maps: A player that won the Red Sky in the Morning scenario may place a Charts and Maps Token on one of their models, representing the charts from that battle. If this model is Destroyed, the Charts and Maps Token is lost. However, if the model is successfully taken as a prize, the Charts and Maps Token may be placed on any model taking part in the Boarding Action. Tactical Goals and Strategic Rewards: Chart as much of the Board as possible, with the contested area in the centre being of paramount importance.   

Each of the six Outside Tokens is worth 1 VP if held at the end of the game. Each of the three Inner Tokens is worth 2 VP. The Charts and Maps Token from the previous battle is worth 2 VP.

The Conclusion: The game lasts for 5 Turns. Calculate the victor using Victory Points as above. Each player will be able to extend his Deployment Zone in game 3 by 1” per VP. The winning player may choose one squadron to deploy 6” further. The Field of Battle: The battle takes place on a 6’x4’ table with the grid described above placed in the centre. Other Terrain should be placed according to local custom, but no Terrain can be within 2” of any token.

Mission Map (on a 6ft x 4ft gaming table) A Word on Terrain: Each gaming group has its own way of placing Terrain. We roll 2D6-2 for the number of Terrain pieces (re-rolling if the first roll is snake eyes); this is the Terrain Pool. We then dice off, and the winner chooses any one item from the local collection to go into the Terrain Pool. Once the Pool is complete, we dice off again, with the winner choosing any single piece from the combined Terrain Pool, and rolling a D8 (the game DOES say you should have a D8). The piece is placed so that the CENTRE of the piece is a number of inches from the centre of the Game Board equal to the die roll x4, along the line indicated by the top of the D8 (see image below). The player placing the piece chooses the orientation. No Terrain piece may be closer than 6” from any previously placed piece, and must be moved the minimum distance necessary to maintain that spacing.

Rolling a D8 for Terrain placement

Mission: Fixed and Glassy Eyes Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas Each of the pursuing factions, scenting that the endgame is near, push their full force into the Cauldron of Silence in search of the pirates and the treasures they have stolen. In this search it is the personality of the commanders that keep the men focused and their efforts true. Without these strong and clear-eyed captains, their efforts would surely founder. And so it was only a matter of time before their adversaries, each twisting with greed and hungry for glory, would take the steps to remove their rivals and thus strengthen their own chance for victory. The Combatants: Any two fleets. Forces: Each player will field fleets of 800 points. Fleets follow all standard composition rules, except that each may only field ONE Large or Massive model. Prelude to Battle The first three pieces of Terrain must be spaced evenly along the centre line of the 6’x4’ Game Board, no piece within 8” of any other; all other terrain is deployed as normal. Deployment Zones are 6” out from opposing long board edges. Each player expands his deployment zone by 1” for each Victory Point they scored in Scenario 2. In addition, any player who won Scenario 2 may choose a single Squadron to deploy a further 6” beyond their adjusted Deployment Zones. Uncharted Heroes Each fleet may contain ONE Captain of Renown, deployed upon their Large/Massive ship, for free.

Special Rules: Call of Blood. The trail of blood being followed by the avenging fleets may well have attracted unwanted attention from the creatures of the Broad Blue. If local collections allow and players wish, random monsters could well be present in the area. Use the rules for Small Sea Monsters to represent the depredations of these predators of the waves. Tactical Goals and Strategic Rewards: 1. Following the Trail o There are clues as to the raider’s identities found amidst the Terrain features in the centre of the board. At the end of the game, add up the total remaining Hull Points of all non-Derelict models each player has within 8” of each of the three central Terrain pieces. The player with the highest total earns a bonus 100 Victory Points. o For example, a player with a Battleship reduced to 2 Hull Points and two frigates with 2 Hull Points each, all within 8” of an appropriate Terrain piece, would have a total of 6 Hull Points. A player with three Cruisers of 4 Hull Points each in range however, would have a total of 12. As this is higher than 6 the second player would earn the bonus 100 Victory Points. 2. Cut off the head and watch the body writhe. o In addition to all other Victory Points, the Admiral’s Vessel in each fleet is worth DOUBLE the normal Victory Points should it be damaged, Destroyed, made Derelict or Captured. o If a player’s Admiral is removed from play, he will count as Wounded in the final battle (see Scenario 4’s Mission Brief for the specifics of Wounded Admirals). The Conclusion: The game lasts for 5 Turns. Calculate the victor using Victory Points as above. The winner of the game will receive a +1 on all rolls to choose deployment zones, deploy models, and gain first Turn Initiative in the final game. The Field of Battle: The battle takes place on a 6’x4’ Game Board with the deployment zones beginning at 6” and adjusting as noted above.

Mission Map (on a 6ft x 4ft gaming table) A Word on Terrain: Each gaming group has its own way of placing terrain. We roll 2D6-2 for the number of Terrain pieces (re-roll the first snake eyes only). This is the Terrain Pool. We then dice off, and the winner chooses any one item from the local collection to go into the Terrain Pool. Once the Pool is complete, we dice off again, with the winner choosing any single piece from the Pool (whether or not he placed it there), and rolling a D8 (the game DOES say you should have a D8). The piece is placed so that the CENTRE of the piece is a number of inches from the centre of the Board equal to the die roll multiplied by 4, along the line indicated by the top of the D8 (see image below). The player placing the piece chooses the orientation. No Terrain piece may be closer than 6” from any previously placed piece, and must be moved the minimum distance necessary to maintain that spacing.

Mission: Hurl and Crash Written by Craig Gallant | Tags: Uncharted Seas The heave and the halt and the hurl and the crash Through skirmish and pitched battle, over the silent sea, the many factions strove to be the first to track down the savage raiders and claim their treasure. The Combatants: Any TWO fleets.

As an alternative, this mission can be played with FOUR fleets for a longer game. If you decide to play with FOUR fleets, it is recommended that one fleet deploys in each of the four corners. In this case, their zones would extend one foot along the short edge and two feet along the long edge, and 8” out into the Game Board. Forces: Each player should field fleets of with a Maximum Fleet Value of 1000 points. Fleets follow all standard composition rules, except that each MUST contain TWO Large models. Prelude to Battle No Terrain may be placed within 8” of the centre point of the table, otherwise Terrain is deployed as normal. Deployment Zones are 3’ areas, reaching from opposite corners to the centre of the long table edges, and 8” deep. The player that chooses deployment zones places a Sky Pirate Khopesh Class Battleship within 6” of the centre of the Game Board, with any orientation. The player who loses this roll then places a squadron of TWO Sky Pirate Sabre Class Assault Airships within 6” of the centre, with any orientation. Uncharted Heroes Each fleet may contain one Captain of Renown, deployed upon either of their Large models, for free. Special Rules: The Lions at Bay. The trail has led these massive fleets to the Pirate’s base of operations within the Cauldron of Silence, and suddenly the mystery is revealed. Located in a protected caldera are three strange ships the likes of which are rarely seen on the Uncharted Seas. A Khopesh Battleship and a squadron of two Sabre Assault Airships of the Sky Pirates are preparing to take off for another raid. Each Turn the player who won Initiative controls the Squadron of Sabre Assault Ships in all ways, as if it were part of their fleet. However, it does not count as a Squadron for the purpose of determining Game Card Hand Size, and will not fire upon the other Sky Pirate model. The player who loses Initiative (or with the lowest Initiative, if playing multiplayer), controls the Khopesh Battlehsip in the same way. Tactical Goals and Strategic Rewards: 1. Tracking the Prize o The fleet whose actions bring a Sky Pirate ship to HALF its initial Hull Points earns half its Victory Point value (rounding down). The fleet whose actions cause a Sky Pirate ship to lose its last Hull Point or its last Crew Point claims the same amount. Mark with a Treasure Token the location where the ship was destroyed. 2. What Treasure to Claim o Any vessel moving over the Treasure Token on the surface of the water claims the token. Should this vessel be Destroyed the token is lost. However, the token may be claimed by any model that initiates and wins a Boarding Action with that vessel.

If a Sky Pirate model is Captured in a Boarding Action, the Treasure Token is placed on one of the victorious models, in addition to the standard Prize Marker. o Even if both defeated in a Boarding Action, and Destroyed, a Sky Pirate model only ever supplies ONE Treasure Token. o A player gains a bonus of 100 Victory Points for each of these tokens he possesses at the end of the game. o

The Conclusion: The game lasts for FIVE Turns. Calculate the victor using Victory Points as normal with the additional points available as detailed above. The Field of Battle: The battle takes place on a 6’x4’ Game Board with the Deployment Zones shown below.

Mission Map (on a 6ft x 4ft gaming table) The Dread Pirates Folks who do not own the Sky Pirate models may use stand-in models if they wish. One of them must be a Large Capital Class model, and the other two, Medium Capital Class models. The stats for all Sky Pirate models can be found in the Uncharted Seas Hardback Edition Rulebook. Alternatively, simply place 3 Treasure Tokens within the 6” zone in the centre of the board to fight over.