In the Leviathan's Wake
Gathering / Conference
7/7
9/7
On the deck of Skagi Worldstealer’s ship, the Fenris Ulf, tension coils like a storm on the horizon. Brogan, Bael, and Dwink board the vessel under a banner of parley—but the smell of salt, blood, and arrogance hangs thick in the air.
There, bound and bruised, sit two twin Tiefling girls, their pink skin marred by rough treatment. A kobold, small but defiant, struggles against his restraints. Beside him, a stoic, shaggy-haired man—silent and unflinching—observes the crew with eyes hidden beneath a curtain of black.
Skagi greets Brogan with a smirk and a slap on the shoulder. "Well met, Stilltide," he says, but his voice is thick with challenge. Brogan wastes no time.
“Bjorn has sent us,” hestates, calm but firm. “To learn why you raid Rrinnoroth without the Lord Reaver’s say-so. And to bring you back.”
Skagi laughs—a hard, humorless bark. “No man tells me where or when to plunder,” he scoffs. “Not Bjorn. Not you.”
Brogan’s eyes narrow. He nods toward the captives. “And them?”
Skagi sneers. “What I take, I keep.”
There’s a pause, brief but heavy. Brogan studies the injuries on the Tieflings—how they shrink when a pirate passes too close, how their wrists are raw from rope—and makes his decision.
“Then I’ll do as you’ve done, Skagi,” Brogan says. “And take them as my prize.”
The deck stills. The crew shifts uneasily. Skagi’s gaze sharpens.
“You’ll leave with nothing but your life,” he growls.
At that, Dwink rushes to Brogan’s side, arms already glowing with divine light as he begins healing the twins, drawing furious protests from Skagi’s crew.
In the chaos of the brewing standoff, the silent man—Wolf—suddenly slumps forward. The pirates barely react. But in the motion, Sprocket’s mechanical bird, unnoticed till now, flits past the guards and lands in Wolf’s palm.
The movement is smooth, practiced. Wolf’s bindings fall away. Moments later, he frees Sprocket as well.
More crew begin to circle Brogan and Dwink, fists clenched, blades drawn.
Then—suddenly—Wolf rises, snatches a cannonball, and slams it into the skull of the nearest pirate. At the same moment, Sprocket fires a bolt of flame into the man’s chest.
Chaos erupts.
Skagi bellows. “Touch my cargo again, and I’ll see your bones fed to the sea!”
Brogan turns to him, places a hand on the raider’s shoulder—and drains the life from it, calm and resolute. “Then let the sea feast tonight.”
Meanwhile, the Tieflings—Ash and Rodani Evenhell—have freed themselves. Ash burns through her bonds with a whisper of flame, her eyes lit with fury. She raises her hand, and fire begins to spread.
Steel clashes. Spells crackle. Screams echo. The battle for the Fenris Ulf begins.
In the frenzy, one of Ash’s errant blasts ignites a keg of powder. Fire licks the rigging. Smoke blackens the sky.
And then—the water begins to churn.
A fin, larger than any mast, rises from the sea.
From the depths, a sea leviathan bursts forth, its roar shaking the ship. In a single, horrifying strike, it crushes the vessel Brogan and his allies had arrived on—and then turns its monstrous gaze upon the Fenris Ulf.
Too late, Skagi sees the threat.
He grabs his axe and roars defiantly—but the beast is merciless. With a scream swallowed by salt and wind, Skagi is devoured whole.
The ship splinters.
Battle halts. Survival becomes the only priority.
Brogan reaches out, calling to the creature—not with words, but with druidic communion. He offers Skagi and his crew as an offering, a bargain for the lives of his allies. The leviathan... accepts.
A rowboat—theirs—survives. The party scrambles aboard, joined by a single surviving pirate, Floyd, who chooses escape over loyalty to the dead.
Behind them, the Fenris Ulf is shattered. Splinters, screams, and Skagi’s legacy sink beneath the waves.
They wash ashore on the rocky coast of Rrinnoroth. Among the debris, Sprocket recovers scattered possessions—personal items, gear, and keepsakes looted by Skagi’s crew. As he returns each piece to its rightful owner, gratitude mixes with the somber weight of survival.
They’re a day’s walk from Vijouma.
There’s little talk as they travel. The road is long, the sun low, and the memory of fire and teeth still fresh.
Night has fallen by the time they reach the gates.
The city guard is cautious—until one of them recognizes Sprocket, apprentice to Professor Bergen of Drolrose’s Academy of Sorcery. With that, the gates swing open, and the weary travelers are granted entry.
Most head straight for the nearest tavern. Sprocket peels off toward the Academy to report to his master.
Professor Bergen listens quietly to Sprocket’s tale. At the end, he opens the delivered package—inside, sheets of enchanted smoking leaf.
“Just what I needed,” he mutters.
He rewards Sprocket with two strange items: a bag of magic beans and a float stone in a vial. Sprocket arranges rooms at the Academy for the party, and they gather in the cafeteria for a warm meal.
Meanwhile, Dwink and Bael head to the Port Returner’s Inn for a stiff drink. Wolf, however, remains restless. He visits the North Gate looking for work—and finds something else entirely.
A figure enters the city. A barbarian tribesman, antlers on his helm—a member of the same clan that killed Wolf’s father and drove him from Aldsfoort.
Wolf follows him.
Across the city, down winding alleys, until the tribesman knocks on the door of a boarded-up building and offers a passcode.
Wolf waits. Watches.
Back at the Academy, the others explore.
Rodani strolls through Saint Elene’s Park, speaking with an elderly couple feeding ducks.
Ash wanders the Providence Quarter, eyeing the towering estates of the elite. She stops at Lord Ivar’s Manor, where a guard turns her away, but confirms that Ivar is indeed the ruler of Vijouma.
Sprocket walks with Brogan and Floyd to the inn, where they reunite with Bael and Dwink. Soon, Ash joins them.
Wolf waits until he deciphers the passcode—a trick, based on the number of letters in a spoken number. When the doorman says “eight,” Wolf answers: “five.”
He’s let in.
Inside, he finds himself in the Vijouma Thieves’ Guild, interrupting a tense negotiation. The barbarian—an Antlerman—is bartering with the Thief Master Fredrick for a magical artifact: an ancient lamp. The gift, he claims, is meant for Lady Catrin—Wolf’s sister, the very one who exiled him.
The tension boils over as Wolf steps into the room.
But Fredrick, amused by the drama, demands no blood be spilled. Wolf, ever the opportunist, sees the Antlerman’s position weakening and makes his own offer: the gold on his person, a tithe of 50 gold quarterly for three years, and the family sword the Antlerman had brought as tribute.
Fredrick accepts.
The Antlerman storms out in fury. The lamp now belongs to Wolf.
Back at the inn, the group reunites. Wolf shows the lamp, its surface engraved with undecipherable runes. Sprocket suggests the Academy may help.
Bael suspects it might contain a Djinni—a wish-granting spirit.
Curious—and cautious—they agree to investigate together.
The next morning, Sprocket acquires a scroll for deciphering runes. The group gathers in Saint Elene’s Park. With Sprocket’s magic and Wolf’s hand on the lamp, the puzzle is solved.
The sky darkens.
A swirl of wind and blue fire heralds the arrival of a Djinni.
He regards Wolf.
“You are the master of this lamp,” he says. “You have three wishes.”
Dwink warns caution.
Wolf makes his choices:
- To reclaim Aldsfoort and the loyalty of its people within the year.
- Peace and prosperity for Aldsfoort and its allies—but not at the cost of innocent lives.
- A sailing ship, fully registered and crew-ready, docked in Vijouma.
The wishes are granted.
The Djinni vanishes. The lamp is gone.
They cut through the square on their way to the harbor—and are accosted by a strange old woman who insists on giving Ash a palm reading. Her words are cryptic, disconcerting. She leaves before Ash can ask more.
At the docks, they find a crowd gathered.
A ship has mysteriously appeared—sleek, dark-hulled, and flying no colors. When Wolf presents the documentation, the ship is declared his.
Its name, branded in gold on its hull: The SS Asshole.
The crew is mortified.
Floyd, undeterred, is just happy to be aboard.
Ash searches for the strange old woman but instead meets a young boy named Avi and his massive mastiff, Nika. Avi warns her: the woman is not what she seems. She is a hag, and she has placed a curse on Avi’s sister—now trapped in the form of a dog. And now, it seems, she has her eyes on Ash.
Ash returns to the others, face pale, and shares what she’s learned.
The group gathers on the deck of their new ship, uncertain of where to go next.
- Wolf wishes to return to Aldsfoort.
- Brogan wants to sail back to the Blood Isles.
- Ash is eager to escape the hag’s grasp.
- The rest? They agree to follow—so long as the road leads forward.
And with that, they stand upon the deck of a ship born of magic, blood, and chance—staring out into the possibilities ahead.
