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Fantasy The Devil's Meridian (Closed)

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Riddle oversaw the setup of the Alleghenian camp on the beach, while Warren and Slater spoke near the commander's already deployed officer's tent. Their conversation was mainly about the recent events and discoveries, Slater listing off things and Warren giving his thoughts to her as she jotted them down in the Jackal's log book. Then, the topics shifted to more general ideas. "So what are your thoughts on all of this?" he finally asked her, glancing up from his cup of warm coffee. Slater glanced up from the log book. "...Well, it's all certainly fascinating. Especially the mutations that Dos Santos and Kuromaki are afflicted with." responded Slater. Warren nodded. "And the captains?"

Slater tilted her head. "Well, Meinhardt's young but experienced. Dobbs seems a bit too cautious. Kortova's immature. Alvarado's decent. And Flint is Flint." she replied. Warren chuckled a bit. "Sounds about right. How about the others?" Slater set the log book down on the small table in front of Warren. "Well, Dos Santos' a nervous wreck from what I've seen. Kuromaki is up to something. That uniform she wears should tell you everything. Dobbs' researcher, Lonstray, is far too eager to study things that he might cast aside his sense of right and wrong. And might get some of their men killed." she said, placing her hand on her hip. "...Williams, Kortova's second, seems...basically like a sitter assigned to watch Kortova. And Rourke just follows Flint around like a good soldier."

Warren nodded again. "Well, we'll need to get to know them a bit better over the course of this expedition. See whom we can label as allies or obstacles." he stated afterwards, to which Slater gave him a nod of her own.

A few scouts from the Alleghenian ship were assigned to explore the surrounding area around the camp before night fell. Mainly checking for any immediate threats or potential discoveries.
 
Once the third group came back from their expedition, the mood in camp had become even more sour and depressed. Alvarado watched with sadness as the men loaded the body of Marta into the Correntino. Mancinelli was resting in one of the camp tents while being checked by Dos Santos and the crews doctor. The men did good work stitching the man up, and he'd live, but it'll take a while for him to recover from his wounds. When Dos Santos exited the tent, some of the crew members looked at her with spite. Making her uncomfortable.

"We'll check the ruins we found one more time tomorrow morning. If we find nothing, we'll head to Island IV." said Alvarado while looking at the crew. "...what happened today is not only regrettable but also incredibly upsetting. I knew Marta since the days of the first war, and she was a strong woman made for the sea. It's difficult to think she's gone, but she knew the risk and took it." As he continued his speech, he noticed some of the crew looking at the researcher. He let out a frustrated groan before pointing at Dos Santos. "...I know what some of you are even thinking right now. 'It must her fault, she's different than us, she caused her death!' and I want all of you to stop with that stupid nonsense. Teniente Pinto told me that Dos Santos tried to warn Marta of the danger, she tried to save her afterwards, and even brought her body back despite the danger."

The crew grew quiet while looking at their captain. One of the men opened his mouth to start talking but the captain quickly interrupted him. "I am not finished! I want all of you to stop being children and face the fact she's a Platense just like us, we are Platense! Our nation was built by immigrants, we all have different last names and skin colors, my grandfather was from Albion for goodness sake. I am tired of you treating the doctor like she's a monster. She's not."

The sailors looked at each other for a moment. One of them, a man that was with Dos Santos' team, raised his head and nodded. "The captain is telling the truth. The doctor might be strange, but she's one of us. Us Platense must stick together when we know the other crews don't care for us." Some of the men nodded, thinking their companion was right, but Alvarado simply sighed. "...I want all of you to cast that thought out of your head as well. We all need each other, including the other crews. Stop looking for people to hate or not trust. I hope this is the last time we have to bring this up."

Alvarado looked at each member of the crew, making sure that they understood the message. While most of the crew agreed and decided to continue supporting their captain, some in the back seemed rather discontent with Alvarado's leadership.

"Dos Santos, what will you do now?" asked Alvarado, as Ana looked at the blue lotus on her otter hand. "Hm... huh? Oh, I am sorry... I'll start studying what we brought so far. Thank you for bringing part of the plant creature you have encountered, captain. With proper protection, I'll study it, but for now I am going to concentrate my efforts on this blue lotus. Didn't Commander Warren mention something about a blue lotus? If that's the case we should send a message to their ship." The captain nodded. "...I'll do that right now and inform the commodore of our situation. Do not stay awake all night, doctor. We will need you to explore the other island." Dos Santos nodded, continuing to look at the beautiful blue flower in her hands for a while before entering her tent. There was too much to do. Studying the flower as well as the plant creature that first team fought was going to take her most of the night. Not that she minded that. She enjoyed doing research more than talking with people after all. At the ship's helm, Alvarado explained the situation to his men, and the instructed their comms officer to send a message to the other ships.

Island III is dangerous. Stop.
Hostile flora and fauna. Stop.
Lost one woman. Stop.
First mate gravely wounded. full stop.
 
The Albionians began to scour the ruins around them, but it was beginning to get late and the search was becoming more difficult. They felt more chills as the rain continued, and once more a water elemental began to take shape. This time, Dobbs ran to it before it could reach full size and kicked at the blueish glow, scattering it and causing the bubble to burst. Although the lack of progress was frustrating, the Captain knew that there would be plenty of time to continue in the morning.

---​

The Sokrovians continued their exploration of Island VI, but found little of note. There were many repetitions of the symbol they found etched on the sarcophagus near the edge of the island, and a few reliefs along the tunnel which connected to the bowl which looked downright demonic in their appearance. Much like the other one on Island V, everything seemed to be in quite good condition, although this tunnel was far deeper and more foreboding than the previous one. It was getting late in the day, and the explorers were unwilling to enter such a dangerous place so close to nighttime, given their cultural fear of caves.

---​

Once Flint's question had been properly translated, Kuromaki replied with a tired expression: "[I was already assigned to the Nixe before Meinhardt was selected for this adventure. Had I resigned from my post, it would have been seen as a severe display of cowardice, and would have cost me my career. However, I did underestimate the risk of personal harm. If I could only find a cure for this affliction I'm carrying, I'd spend the rest of my time on this expedition on the Nixe. I'm sure my superiors would understand my reluctance to follow the Commodore around if they knew I was cursed to become an animal of some kind,]" she explained while flexing her gloved hands. "[I don't know what Dr. Dos Santos was talking about. This feels very strange to me.]" She took a long look at the black aetherine before slipping it into her pocket, having assumed that Flint meant for her to bring it back to the Nixe.

A translator passed all of her thoughts on to Flint. A moment later, Rourke reappeared from deep in the room, removing his mask as he stepped into the corridor outside. "There's an exit," he said promptly, "but it's a shaft, and it goes down. It's not safe to climb down normally; we'll need ropes if we're going to use it."

Down below, Von Paning and his accompaniment traveled down the right-side passage at the second fork, where the armored mummy had originally stood. Still preoccupied with the thought of Rask laid out by a hidden crossbow trap, he was less cautious than he needed to be. He stepped onto a large floor tile which cracked and gave way under his feet, causing him to fall into a punji pit. He cried out so loudly that Flint and the others could hear him from the floor above. Once the two others had fished him out of the pit, they rushed to provide him medical attention that he sorely needed. Like Rask, he would survive, but wouldn't be of much help for the rest of the night.

Having bypassed the trap, the team eventually reached a chamber that was highly decorated with bits of silver and copper, depleted aetherine glass, and lapis lazuli, and featured a circular design on the flooring which seemed to be the focal point of the room. At the far side, an elevated platform with what appeared to be a lectern was crowned with a rather large, intact scroll. There was no exit in this room.

---
​
The sun was setting over Island II as the Alleghenian and Alamannian camps were beginning to settle in for the night. Both the Commodore and the Commander had sent out teams to inspect their surroundings, in case there was some sort of danger they needed to be aware of, or perhaps some kind of amazing discovery they could make. Detlev, deciding to take leadership of the Nixe's team, soon found a sort of fruit tree which the expedition had not yet encountered. A scout climbed up to pick some of the pinkish fruit clustered near the top, but as he climbed, he disturbed a large elephant ear of a leaf, which shook loose around half a dozen white bats that went wild with indignant screeches. They swirled and dropped toward Detlev, who dove for the ground and avoided them. They then dispersed into the air, leaving everyone to breathe a sigh of relief and have a chuckle about the scene.

Meanwhile, the team sent by Warren returned a while later, in the dying light of the day. "Commander, you should see this," the lead scout urged.

Warren traveled along the water for a while, following his subordinates, until they came upon a dune of sand that was half covered with grasses. On the far side of that dune was an elaborately carved stone which had once been upright, with an extremely large aetherite stone in the top, which glowed beautifully blue in the golden light of twilight. Every inch of the stone was engraved with yet another new language, and Warren found himself running his fingers over the stone in admiration. Idly, he reached out to touch the blue stone, and was bathed in its azure aura until he wasn't sure of his surroundings.

"Bishop Warren," a feminine voice called out to him. He turned around to find himself staring at an alien-looking creature, the winged mermaid they had seen so many pictures of. Although he could tell what she was meant to look like, what stood before him like a snake on the beach appeared ghostly and hollow. "You are the first human I've addressed in many, many years. Please do not fear me; I mean you no harm. My name is Merphrau, and I was once the goddess of all the oceans. But that time... has long passed. I am no more. You will see idols of the wicked goddess Wulfera wherever you go in the outer rim, but know this: Wulfera met her end as well, as will all the other gods in time. It is the only way your world can be safe from the evils we have wrought together. None of us were truly good, but I was at least loyal to my people, and I will be loyal to you, if you ensure that Wulfera stays in the Ashes. I will give you a blessing," she said, and she lifted her trident to point it at him.

As the tip hovered in the air, Warren felt a surge of power and warmth within himself. He blinked, and Merphrau, as she called herself, was gone. "Commander, are you alright?" one of the scouts asked of him. Warren rubbed his head and looked around himself. The aetherite stone in the carved stele seemed to be engulfed in blueish flames, but when he tried to point this out to his scouts, they saw nothing aside from an inert blue rock.

---
​
It was now after dark, and Dr. Dos Santos had been researching the blue lotus for hours. She rubbed her eyes in frustration. It's just a flower, she thought to herself.
 
Resigning to camp out for the night, Dobbs led his expeditionary team out of the academy and back to their encampment on the shoreline. Lonstray, along with an assistant of his, began to set up some other equipment while the sailors set up a campfire as well as a few tents. Dobbs meanwhile looked out into the waters and ruminated on his thoughts and tried to make sense of everything that had happened today. Who could I even really tell what I had seen? Certainly most people would think I'm crazy... Dobbs thought to himself. It didn't help that these waters are known to play tricks on the mind. Yet, Dobbs could not explain how, his experience in the academy was more than just a vivid illusion. He wanted to know more and Astrius, the god that promised him answers yet Dobbs could not fatham how to even speak to the entity again. Would he have to find a way to do so? Or would the god speak to him like before once more?

The captain rubbed his eyes and shook his head before returning his attention back to the camp. He would save these questions for later, as he was tired after all that and only wanted to sleep now. With his tent set up, Dobbs told a sailor to relay their status to the Prophet before entering and resigning for the night. An hour would pass as Lonstray soon also resigned to sleep and so did most of the sailors and researchers. A few stayed up to stay on first watch, talking among themselves and playing a game of cards aboard a crate.

Meanwhile on the Prophet, the message was received from the shoreline and thus was transmitted to the rest of the fleet to inform them of the Albionian progress:

Island VII partially explored STOP
Academic structure found STOP
Structure partially explored STOP
Water constructs encountered STOP
No casualties STOP​
 
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Flint simply nodded as the translator relayed Kuromakis reply. Cowardice was gravely looked upon in the Shinju Empire, and he could understand why the ensign had not resigned from the expedition. And although he could tell that the commodore and his assigned political officer tolerated each other at best and that she may have underestimated the dangers of this trip, he was convinced that there had to be other motivations. Despite Dos Santos curse and the mummy attack, Kuromaki had still accompanied him to the ziggurat and it's interiors. Something had to motivate her, perhaps something similar to his own strange callings. But he needed more time to discern that.

When Rourke returned and informed the captain about the shaft, he pondered a bit. As he stood and discussed the logistics with his lieutenant, the other team returned with the wounded pioneer. They relayed their own findings to the Captain, about the ornate, dead end chamber as well as the seemingly important scroll. Taking out his pocket watch and checking the time, Flint furrowed his brow slightly, as he usually did when making extensive plans. Rourke would need additional men to accompany him down into the lower floors, and all of them would need the protective equipment. They would also need to bring a canary, to test the air of the room. As Rourke handled the descent and the relating tasks, Flint would take a personal look at that scroll. He would need to bring someone from the Nixies crew who were versed in linguistics, or at least had some knowledge in the languages of the Altanians. Even with a plan formulated, he still had to concede for now. He had injured men and the hour was getting late. It would be better for them to return tomorrow, rested and renewed. After retracing their path out of the temple, the group made their way back, through the burial city, reaching the harbour camp safely. Flint and his men parted ways with Kuromaki and the Alamannians, returning to the Terror to turn in for the night.

Flint, Bates and Rourke talked for some time about the preparations that needed to be made for continuing the exploration. With everything written down and Rourke reassuring his willingness to lead the descent, the officers turned in for the night, whilst the a communication was sent to the Nixie.

Ziggurat partially explored STOP
Encountered undead STOP
Black aetherine recovered STOP
Exploration will resume FULL STOP​

Like always, Flint sat in his cabin and recorded the days events in his logbook. So much had happened today that he had to really concentrate as he wrote to make it coherent. The transformation of the undead from myth into reality, the methods to combat them, the beginings to find the link between necromancy and the black aetherine and finally the mysterious scroll. After penning his accounts with great effort, Flint sat quiet for a while at his desk. He took out the black aetherine charm and placed it on the middle of the table. He stared at it intently, as if he was trying to command the object to reveal it's secrets. Instead, he simply found himself thinking about things he already knew and began trying to make connections between them. The undead, the aetherine, Wulfera, the war, the golden-eyed figure, the winged mermaid. Once again he found himself frustrated, lacking the information he needed to make sense of all this. After thinking about these things at length, Flint finally found that sleep was calling him. Laying down in his bed, he fell asleep rather quickly.
 
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Warren looked between his scouts, confused as to them being unable to see the blue blaze that engulfed the aetherite stone. Finally, he sighed. He rubbed his eyes for a few moments, before looking back to the scouts once more. "Get a camera over here to take a picture of it. And a flashlight." he said, waving one of them off. The scout saluted before running off, back to the camp. The other scout looked back to Warren. "...You sure you're alright, sir?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Warren nodded after a moment. "I'm fine. Lets just head back to camp." So now he knew what the winged mermaid was. A goddess of the ocean by the name of Merphrau. And she had done something to him. He felt...warm inside. What had she done?

He soon found himself following the scout back to camp, thinking over what the goddess had told him. Wulfera was evil? The angelic looking woman that they had found carvings and inscriptions of? He mulled over the thought till he arrived. He needed to speak to Meinhardt as soon as possible, but for now, he'd sleep. Maybe some rest would help him gather his thoughts for the chat with the the Commodore.

It wasn't long afterwards that the commanding officers of the Jackal turned in for the night. Slater and Warren slipped off rather quickly. Riddle found himself taking turns with the other troops, keeping watch over the camp during the night, before eventually getting some rest.
 
"Stupid fucking..." murmured Dos Santos, as she gently put the flower down. It was indeed just a close relative of the nelumbo nucifera, or normal lotus. It was frustrating, to know she had wasted a few good hours on this flower when she could have been studying the other strange and hostile flower the other researchers brought. She'll have to work on them tomorrow. For now she just sat down on her bed and looked at the small box where she had placed the Aetherine stone given by Goddess Halja. "...It'd be nice if you actually... you know, talked to me... I don't mind the otter hand... Or turning into an otter. They're cute... but I don't want Kuromaki to turn into an otter." Dos Santos sighed while grabbing her sketch book and then realizing something. "...Why the hell am I talking to a stone?" She sighed and continued to make a few notes and small drawings of the things found today.
 
The Sokrovian's had retreated to the Archangel for the coming night, returning their equipment to the cargo bays and locking the ship up tight. A large floodlight was activated on the nearest shore to keep an eye on the area they had worked in during the day, as suggested by Captain Kortova, just to keep an eye on things. A few additional hands were assigned to watch duty, and a few members of the science team were given reign to conduct nighttime observations on the main deck.

Anastasia looked over her diary and at the large entry she had been scribbling for the better part of the past hour after dinner had concluded. She had taken dinner in the mess hall with the wardroom and standing officers - all the main officers of the ship, a little over a dozen in all, in addition to herself. Not all of them had actually joined together for dinner, though. Chief Surgeon Reynolds dined in the medical room with his orderlies while Gunnery Lieutenant Resnov, who oversaw all the gun crews, had been performing another relentless check of the guns, armory, and munitions store, in addition to the coal bunkers. Kortova had learned over dinner that Resnov had been onboard a vessel that had suffered an internal coal bunker fire, which had blown a hole in the side of the ship, sinking it within ten minutes and killing over half the crew. She had thought his practices amusing, but now realized how grateful she truly was to have such a diligent man on board. In her diary, she had written down some of things she had learned today and her experiences - such as with Ishra, connections to Wulfera, and anything else she could remember in relation to these 'supernatural' encounters, along with entries for each of her officers. She was trying to get to know them better and more personally, and she had a little progress today at dinner. Kortova glanced down at the page before her and read some of it over again. Chief Engineer Levetski Durna. Married. Has an interest in automobiles and regularly sketches and designs them. Likes dogs.... Second Lieutenant Alyndra Mendelev. Single. Fencer, has won several fencing awards and competitions. Has a collection of native totem charms.... Second Mate Yuri Zhukov. Unknown. Somewhat sickly. Passionate about the arts, is also a poet. There were several more entries as she had done her best to speak with all the officers present and learn a little more about them. It wouldn't be too hard to get close to a few of them, but some like the chief engineer, she wasn't sure how to approach. An old married man who liked machines? That certainly wasn't her field of knowledge.

There was a knock at the door to her cabin, and she closed her diary and called out for the person to enter. As expected, it was Lieutenant Williams. "Good evening, captain. You wished to speak with me?" Kortova nodded and spun in her seat to face him. "Yes, lieutenant. This is about... what happened earlier today. On the island, when I sat in that chair." The lieutenant had a commendably unbreakable poker face - an expression of almost constant indifference to his surroundings - but her words did earn a small quirk on his brow. Kortova cleared her throat before continuing. "I had what I think is termed a visitation. When I took to that chair, my surroundings had changed and I was face to face with an... angel, or perhaps a demon, named Ishra. She had some interesting things to say...." Kortova launched into a full explanation of her experience, as well as indicating that she believed the skeleton they found to be of Ishra, or at least of someone like her, or a representation of her. All the while Lieutenant Williams listened impassively. When she finished, she found she was out of breath for she had been speaking rather quickly.

Williams was also silent for a moment before he removed his cap and ran a hand through his short, wavy blond hair. "Ah... well... that is certainly quite the experience. Uh, hmm. I think you did the right thing by not saying yes to this woman without knowing more of the situation. This is clearly more dangerous than any dream any of us have had, I think, since it wasn't... well, a dream." Kortova nodded. "So you do believe me?" Williams bowed his head slightly. "I must admit, hearing your story is a little strange to me, but I am rather inclined to trust you for a few reasons. One, you really did look different almost instantly when sitting on that chair. Like you had ran a marathon when moments earlier you were normal. Your words about this Ishra calling you a, um, treat? Evidently the chair must have been for sacrifices, I think, as the loops around it made me uncomfortable. I knew they were for rope, or chain. Mariner's intuition, I think. And as for the skeleton... you described it perfectly without having seen it. I looked it over personally when you returned to the ship. It is... a little startling."

Kortova breathed a sigh of relief as Williams explained himself. Rather, she was more than pleased. His explanation indicated he didn't trust her blindly, which meant any trust she earned would be harder to break. If the crew didn't look up to her, they at least looked up to him. "As for the coin...." She held it up and he took a step forward, bending over to inspect it without touching it. "It certainly looks harmless, but if what the angel... or demon said was true, then you might experience... changes? Captain, I don't think I can support allowing for physical alteration. There is no telling how that may affect your health and wellbeing. And if you start to look like what we found on that island, wouldn't that make some people, ah, uncomfortable?"

"A price for power, I suppose, lieutenant. But I can always throw the coin away to change back. A few minor physical changes are nothing to me." She glanced into the large mirror at her desk and smiled, staring into her own eyes. "I rather say nothing can harm my natural beauty." There was a moment's silence as Williams said nothing. "As you say, captain.... I can't say that I am not curious myself. I can broach the subject to the other officers and see how they feel about it and warm them up to the chance that there may be some... additions to your personage? But I really must insist, if anything is too strange or dangerous, you must toss that coin away. I am obligated to look after your health." Whether you know what is good for you or not.

"I understand, lieutenant. And I thank you for being so open-minded. We Sokrovians are an intelligent and cultured bunch. We shan't let trifles stand in our way of progress. Imagine, if we return home not only with treasures and gold, but with sorcery? Knowledge of arcane arts? We will become the pinnacle of academic pursuits, of cultural refinement, even of military power!"

"Right you are," Williams said curtly as she launched into another one of her impromptu nationalist speeches. There was a short ringing of bells and he replaced his cap upon his head. "The shifts are changing. I'll be on the bridge before retiring. Please inform me of any changes to your plans, captain, and let me know if you are ever feeling unwell." With that, he saluted, and departed, leaving Kortova alone in her cabin. She absent-mindedly grabbed her hairbrush and began combing through her hair as she often did, keeping it meticulously clean, smooth, and without a single out of place strand. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she found comfort in her visage. She really was a beautiful woman - probably the best looking in the entire fleet. There was no limit to the relaxation and pleasure she could feel just looking by looking at herself. Truly, she was blessed. After a moment, she tilted her head slightly and put the brush down. Horns... did Ishra mean I could get horns? That does sound rather ghastly, but.... Slowly, she raised her hands to her head to mimic the horn placement. She made a few adjustments before smirking.

Hah. Of course I'd still look perfect.

She placed the coin in a little jewelry purse, tightened the drawstring, tied it around her neck, and went to bed for the night. She had no intention of removing the necklace which now bore the coin.
 
Dobbs​

Dobbs thought about his encounter with Astrius as he lay in bed, hoping that his dreams would bring clarity to what they had discussed. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him.

"Your training begins now," a mysterious voice spoke. It was not a voice he was familiar with- not anyone he knew, nor was it the voice of Astrius. It had the inflection of an eastern country, like Shinju or Shenzhou, but he couldn't tell. Although he could understand the words, he wasn't entirely sure if they were Albionian, or if something else was taking place. Turning around, he realized that he was outside of his family home, young like he had been in his earlier dream, but the source of the voice wasn't nearby. In the distance, he could see the same, towering and muscular form of a man he had seen before, stoically positioned on top of a large stump with his arms crossed.

Who are you?

Dobbs wanted to question the man, but something held his tongue. At this moment, he already knew. He felt this man's presence in his life, like a mentor. All that eluded him was a name. Before he could overcome his hesitation, he heard a frightening sound behind him. Turning, he found himself confronted by an armored warrior. Horns stuck out the sides of his helmet, and at first he thought they were ornamental, but Dobbs soon realized that they were actually part of the creature's head, along with the long, armored tail sticking out of his backside. It drew a heavy broadsword and shouted something in an unholy language, and Dobbs instinctively reached to his side, finding the sword from his other dreams at the ready.

He drew it as the demon crashed in with an overhead strike that he narrowly avoided. Turning, Dobbs swung hard but missed on the counterattack. The demon lofted its sword back out of the ground and struck the man across the ribs with a punishing blow. "Don't be so reckless!" the distant mentor cried out. "He is strong, but slow!"

Dobbs was hurt, and blood was streaming out of the side of his body at an alarming rate. What kind of training is this!? he found himself thinking. The demon raised its sword for another cleaving shot, and Dobbs managed to duck out of the way again. This time, he let the creature dig its blade out and wind up another strike before stabbing at it with the tip of his blade in a stance he didn't know he knew. The demon stumbled backwards, shocked but not very wounded. It swept across its body with the broadsword and Dobbs ducked under it, striking again from the same stance.

"That's it, boy! Read his movements!" The mentor called out.

Dobbs felt power rising inside him as he dodged another attack. Sensing an opening, he prepared a rising windmill-style strike against the armored demon, but before he had even let it fly, he heard the mentor cry out "No!" Too late, Dobbs realized the demon had positioned his sword across his body in a way which would block the attack, and despite himself he launched the attack anyway. The swords crashed together, and despite all his strength going into the attack, the demon wasn't even staggered. Instead, it threw a punch which caught Dobbs in the side of his head and knocked him from his feet. Down on the ground, he turned just in time to see the demon turn the blade over so that its point was directed to the ground, and thrusted it downward into his body.

Dobbs awoke in his bed, gripping his abdomen in terrible pain. Blood trickled out the sides of his mouth, and he felt weak as if he had suffered a terrible illness. Pulling the blanket off of himself, however, he found no wounds on his body. He shook his head. What just happened?

Flint​

Settling quickly into his dreams, Flint found himself so overwhelmed with discoveries that he didn't really care what his slumber would bring him other than some peace and quiet.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the shade of one of the mysterious and ghostly trees inside the pyramid, which was strangely lit with an unknown source of light. In fact, above him, there was no ceiling, but only the sky above. Around him, he saw no walls; only the stone floor remained, which stretched endlessly in every direction, covered in gnarled roots and narrow channels for water. It was somehow relaxing here, despite quiet, incomprehensible whispers in the air. Without any motive to get up and explore this void-like place, he settled in, leaning against the trunk and checking his pockets, where he found his tobacco and began to smoke.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" a feminine voice said from the opposite side of the tree. Flint glanced over his shoulder, but he could only see the woman's white veil. "I promise I won't bother you," she added. Her voice was soft and warm, and made Flint feel like a younger man. He nodded, and she seated herself. For a while they were silent together. It seemed to go on for nearly an hour, but finally, the woman stood up. Without revealing herself, she spoke again. "My queen is calling me. You are a wise man, Mister Flint. This place is holy. I beg you to keep it so."

"Throw away that accursed charm. That is my queen's message to you, and in return..." A looking glass landed in Flint's lap. It was made of silver, and the glass shimmered with a reddish sheen.

He awoke sitting upright in his cabin's bed, the taste of tobacco still in his mouth, and the looking glass laying in his lap. He felt refreshed, as if he had been resting peacefully all week long- a nice break from the events of the expedition so far.

Kuromaki​

Kuromaki slept in one of the tents on the shoreline next to the Terror, along with all the Alamannians whom had been left behind when Meinhardt departed for Islands I and II. She was a bit uncomfortable due to her wounded neck, and disturbed by all the violence of the day, but eventually, she was able to nod off.

And there she was, standing at the edge of a large circle, surrounded by cloaked figures. They were chanting something in a foreign language, and apparently didn't notice her as she looked them over. They seemed human, but strangely wise beyond their years, their eyes especially denoting some knowledge that defied explanation. She listened closely to the chanting, and felt an ominous energy in the air as she looked at her surroundings. It was too dark to see, but she felt as if she were surrounded by hills, and in the center of this ring of apparent cultists, there was a large lump of sparkling purple gems. One of the cloaked figures turned, walking to the shadows all around to retrieve a small pot. She removed the lid and set it aside as she continued to chant, before walking in a circle inside the ring formed by the others. She dipped her hand into the pot and began to sprinkle a white, salt-like substance behind her, and after six laps, there was a complete circle. She rejoined the ring where she had started.

As the chanting continued, the salt began to crackle and spark, revealing a bluish energy that rose into the air, eventually forming a sort of wall around the gems, which were glowing with a power of their own. One of the cultists lifted his hood, yelling something in his gibberish language, which caused a bolt of lightning to shoot not down from the sky, but up from the purple gems, startling Kuromaki badly. In the smoke which rose from the display, a demonic figure appeared, seemingly furious at having been summoned. "WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT!?" He exploded. "IS ETERNAL DAMNATION NOT ENOUGH TO DISSUADE YOU?"

"You are well aware of our work!" the leader of the cultists replied. "But today, it is in your interests that we call you forth!"

"OUT WITH IT. NOW."

"A traveler, from the faraway lands!" The cultist announced, and at once the cultists turned to look at Kuromaki, who suddenly felt inclined to run for her life.

"I SEE," The demon shouted, impatiently. "AND YOU THINK SHE IS WORTHY?"

The cultist crossed his arms. "Do you not sense it?"

"I SENSE IT. BUT I AM NOT THE JUDGE YOU SEEK, YOU UTTER IMBECILES. YOU-" the demon boomed, pointing at Kuromaki. "SEEK ISHRA. SHE HAS WHAT YOU DESIRE."

The words were still ringing in her ears when she awoke. Her first thoughts were centered on the final words the frightening creature had given her. She has what you desire? Did he mean a cure for her affliction? As she reached to remove her gloves, it occurred to her how ill-fitting they seemed, far worse than the day before. Nervously, she pulled the leather away, revealing the ever-worsening appearance of her hands. By now it was clear that whatever she was becoming, it wasn't an otter, as Dr. Dos Santos believed. The black fur she was sprouting now formed a thick and even coat from the tips of her claws upward, across long and bony fingers to her shriveled wrists. Now trembling, she pulled back the sleeve of her night shirt further and further, and with growing horror realized the affliction had spread up her forearms, nearly to her elbows.

Her stoic shell broke down, and for a while before she dressed and exited her tent, Kuromaki cried inconsolably. Who was Ishra, and how could she even begin to seek her out? But then another thought finally entered her mind. The salt the cultists had used her in her dream seemed useful at containing the demon. Perhaps it was some kind of ward...

Warren
​
Having had an active day, Warren fell asleep without much trouble, thoughts of his encounter with Merphrau occupying his imagination.

It was a brisk October morning in Alleghenia, and Commander Warren was standing on a train platform, sipping on a coffee to stay warm. "Where are you headed?" a man asked idly with his hands in his coat pockets.

"Home," Warren replied.

The man shook his head. "You're headed the wrong way, then," he said, and as the next train rolled into the station, he calmly stepped forward and off the edge of the platform, swallowed up immediately by the huge steel wheels and splattered into a gory mess. It had happened so suddenly that Warren couldn't even scream as it happened, and he rushed to the edge of the platform and back, hands on his head in a terrified panic.

The passengers of the train began to disembark into the station, every one of them sporting a skull-like faceless visage, talking and walking as if nothing strange had occurred when the train arrived, and nothing strange was happening. But warren was lost in a world of horror, and turned away, running as quickly as he could manage away from the platform and toward the exit of the station. Outside, the city was a decrepit, rotting mess of old, moldy wooden architecture and crumbling stone, like much of the ruins of the Altanic civilization, and sea water, ankle-deep, ran freely down the avenues. A streetcar rolling down the center of the roadway cut a v-shaped wave through the salty river, splashing him as it rang its bell.

"You see, Commander, this is your home, now. You can't leave this place," the same man as before now spoke again, and as Warren turned, he found himself looking at yet another skull-like face. "You have to finish his work." The dead man raised a rotting hand to his chest and revealed the black aetherine hanging around his neck. "...for all of us."

Warren realized he had nowhere to run from this nightmare, and through clinched teeth he forced himself to ask. "How?"

"Merphrau will guide you," the man replied. He then reached into his pocket and pulled a crystal ball out of his pocket that was roughly the size of a golf ball, which had a smokey haze in the center. "Take this, as a reminder of what we were." Warren looked through the glass at his ghoulish companion, and saw the face the man had before he died.

He awoke in his bed startled, but with a very slightly better understanding of his surroundings in this accursed sea.

Meinhardt
​
Meinhardt slept rather well, having had quite a bit of fun meeting Mr. Ivanov and listening to his stories. He had no idea of the trials many of the other crews had been through during the day and assumed their explorations were similarly peaceful. He had forgotten entirely about the feather in his coat pocket.

He was sitting at his writing desk and fishing for a pen, but couldn't find the one he normally used. He searched his pockets, and then, of course, discovered the feather, still beautifully red as he had seen it before. Smiling, he decided to be a bit old fashioned, and dipped the feather in the inkwell at the corner of his desk, before penning a short letter to his wife. As he wrote, however, the paper began to warp and tear at the edges, and when he lifted his hand, after signing his name as a final touch it rapidly twisted itself into an odd shape before forming the basic profile of a bird, and then took off- out the window and into the sky.

Meinhardt stood, mouth agape, at the incredible happening, before blinking awake in his tent.

Dos Santos​

Having stayed up too late, Dos Santos found it easy to drift off to sleep despite all the troubles that had plagued her and her crew all day long. She tried not to wonder about what-ifs, especially since it was her own decision which brought the Correntino to Island III in the first place. Before turning out the light, however, she spoke aloud to Halja. Was it a prayer, or was she really speaking to herself? She felt a bit foolish and refocused on her work. As she lay in bed, she promised herself that tomorrow's work would yield more positive results.

She found herself back in the jungle, still striving to make headway despite the soggy ground. At least it wasn't raining anymore, but it was even darker than before. She looked to the sky above, and between the branches of the overgrown canopy, she saw the blackness of the sky above. Wait, why did we go back out? The sun hasn't risen yet! She spun around in alarm, looking for her crew mates, but now she realized that she was entirely alone. An insect buzzed in her ear, and then another. She slapped at the bugs in the sweltering humidity and wandered aimlessly, trying to get a sense of direction. Which way is the ship!?

She tripped over a log and caught herself on a tree, but dropped her flashlight in the process. It hit the muddy ground, shattering its bulb in the process. She couldn't see anything now, and finally real panic began to set in. She picked up the useless instrument out of instinct, now prepared to use it as a weapon if need be, and after a number of turns and attempts to regain her footing, she saw a glimmer of light in the distance. Thinking it was another of her crew, she began to slog towards it, until, dishearteningly, she emerged in a clearing and realized it was the moon's reflection on a large pool of water. Still, it was somewhat of a relief to at least be able to see in the moonlight, until she heard the water slosh in the distance.

It's the same pond. It'd the same pond! As the realization set in, the water positively exploded in front of her, revealing the same crocodile which had terrorized her team earlier in the day. She dove out of the way, landing in the shallow waters and coating herself in mud as the reptile snapped its jaws in the air above her. As it turned, she bashed it in the head with her flashlight several times, but soon it caught her arm, ripping into the flesh with knife-like teeth and thrashing hard enough that Dos Santos was thrown into the air, coming loose from its jaws and flying limply for around a dozen feet, crashing into the trees at the edge of the pond in agony.

She tried to pick herself up, overwhelmed with adrenaline and wanting to run and fight at the same time. Her body felt broken, but nothing was as disheartening as when the flashlight slipped out of her hand again, and when she tried to pick it up, realizing that her affliction had progressed so that her otter paw now lacked an opposable thumb! She turned just as the crocodile reached her, ramming her with its massive head back into the wet, muddy ground. It opened its mouth wide and-

The doctor jolted awake, feeling as if she had been stabbed through the chest. Flinging her blanket off of herself, she found no evidence of any wounds, but still carried the pain from her nightmare. Breathing heavily, she tried to rest her head back on her pillow, but she halted when she felt the need to cough. It was rough and hoarse, and she spent around ten seconds hacking into both hands until she felt better. When she looked at them afterwards, however, she noticed two things. First, she had coughed up blood, and second, her affliction had now spread to her other hand. Her arms fell uselessly to her sides and she felt sick and weak. At least she still had her thumbs...

Kortova​

Cuddled up comfortably in her bed, Kortova contented herself on the security of Ishra's promise that any undesirable effects from her token's magic could be done away with by throwing the coin away. Still, if the coin were inert after doing so, it would make a memorable souvenir... so long as the "haunting" she warned of wasn't all too terrible. The night crept up on her and she let go, hoping for a better dream than the manic nightmare she suffered a day before.

"A newcomer! A newcomer! Oh, Loken be praised!"

Blinking, disoriented, Kortova was standing in the middle of a city square of sorts, absolutely surrounded by hundreds of people - no, demons - with varying degrees of human features partially obscured by horns, wings, tails, and other deformities. Despite this, their body language, while animated, didn't strike her as hostile or predatory, but merely curious instead. The buildings around her were tall, gothic ordeals made of black stone, positively glittering with millions of tiny shards of aetherine and a purplish stone which resembled amethyst, and trimmed in stunning gold leaf. The sky above was a swirling display of crimson and violet, although strange columns of emerald-colored smoke rose from distant flues in the rooftops. Winged demons effortlessly flew from building to building, further dazzling the Sokrovian captain.

As she looked back down, she noticed the male demon which had shouted about her arrival. He was tall and lanky, but with a muscular build which suggested he did some sort of physical work. Tall, majestic horns sprouted from his head, and his skin was a deep shade of red, so dark that he could almost be mistaken for a human with naturally brown skin. He had fangs which were large and slightly chipped, making his wide grin almost endearing. "Welcome, whoever you are! Welcome to the Ashes!"

As if given the signal by said greeting, the crowd now rushed in, and the demons looked over her with prodding curiosity. So many were talking that she could barely make sense of their jabbering, but she heard a few fragments: No horns, no tail... She must have a token, then? Ah, so strange! ...stunningly beautiful, she looks like a... Maybe a herald? Or a succubus...?

"Please, give her space to breathe!" the tall demon urged, and for the most part, the crowd obliged. Although Kortova felt overwhelmed, being in the presence of someone who at least seemed concerned with her welfare gave her some reassurance. "Young lady, what is your name?"

She cleared her throat, and in a wavering voice, answered, "Anastasia Kortova."

There was another round of murmurs from the crowd. "Aha! A beautiful name it is, but..." the tall demon replied, "we have no need for surnames, here. We are all family, serving an eternal goal: to find, or create, more family!" His booming message attracted a number of cheers from the crowd. "And you will help us, someway, somehow. And in return, we will help you. What is your ambition?"

Kortova was too afraid to tell the demons that she wasn't sure if she even wanted to be a part of their so-called "family," and so she played along. "I will rule the nation of Sokrovy, and build it into a great kingdom!" she replied, and while she did her best to project confidence, she wanted to break down crying.

"Sokrovy?" the large demon repeated. "That name is foreign to us. Is it a faraway land? It must be, it must be..." He rubbed his chin a bit with a clawed hand and gave an intrigued smile. "And you told an alterationist about this goal? Whose seat did you occupy?"

She knew the answers to these questions, but she was becoming reluctant to reply. Perhaps she was unready to have such eager support from total strangers. "I... I spoke with Ishra," she stammered out.

A hush fell over the crowd. "I- Ishra?" the tall demon replied, now taking a knee and setting his large hand on Kortova's shoulder. "It's been centuries since... praise Loken almighty. If Ishra took a liking to you... If building a great kingdom in the faraway lands is your goal, by all the glory of all the Ashes you shall have that kingdom." There was a yet another murmur of agreement from the crowd, and suddenly the fear began to melt away. The tall demon began to guide her through the throng toward the glittering markets ahead, and as she stepped down the shining brick roadway, she passed by a group of humans walking single-file, their necks bound together with chains. Each had a brand on their foreheads which somehow alerted Kortova to their wickedness, and she felt no sympathy for them as she passed by. They glared at her, and she smiled back.

"My name is Zuruk, and I was once like you, many centuries ago. Well, not quite like you- I was a cattle rancher. Now, I put my muscles to work as a builder of monuments. It is a great honor; there are few of us as the Ashes are expanding slowly as of late, but all that can change if our presence in the mortal realm could stretch beyond the ancient boundaries of Altanis. You might even be the key. But I won't charge you with being some sort of chosen one or anything of that nature. No one sails from the faraway lands alone... perhaps one or many of your human allies will join our family as well."

The two entered a large bazaar where all sorts of transactions were taking place. Kortova could see jewelry and magnificent clothing on display, adorned with jewels and gold, but interestingly, since arriving she hadn't seen a single scrap of silver. There were also humans chained to various posts, acting as servants to their demonic masters, and some were even for sale, with signs around their neck advertising their price. As her eyes settled on one such sign, Zuruk stopped and chuckled. "Ah, a human soul is probably the most expensive thing you could ask for. Not many end up here, anymore, and most already have owners. Do you know how humans end up here?"

Kortova shook her head.

"All of these men and women were mages, like most Altanians. But unlike the rest, these mages sought power from our realm. They built spells around naether, the energy of life here in the Ashes, and corrupted their souls in the process. As hard as we try to welcome the worthy ones to our family, some have the audacity to spurn us. And so their souls become trapped here without invitation or welcome, and we treat them like the scum they are. You hold Ishra's token right now- a powerful blessing. Guess what would happen if you tossed it away? Ha ha ha!"

The two moved on while Kortova forced a nervous chuckle. They reached a stall with numerous curiosities on display, and the Sokrovian felt overwhelmed by the selection of merchandise. Before she could even ask, Zuruk explained the currency of the Ashes. "Here, we buy, sell, and trade in gold, which can only be found in the mortal realm. As valuable as it is there, it's even more valuable here. Now, before you get any ideas, you can't go pulling gold studs out of the buildings throughout the city. Not only are they enchanted to prevent that, but thievery is a good way to get yourself cast out of the family. I can sense you don't have any on your person, but I have a bit with me now, so I want to get you a little welcoming gift. Think nothing of it...

The transaction went by in a blur, and the next thing Kortova knew, she was rolling over in bed and stretching her arms out. She was back in her bed again, and as she sat up, she felt something odd on her finger. She found herself wearing a brass ring with a shining purple gem in the center. While lost in thought about the elaborate dream she had experienced, she climbed out of bed and remembered the token hanging around her neck and the terrible dilemma Zuruk had spoken of. If she were to take it off now, would she really be damning herself to slavery in the afterlife? It was a chilling thought. She walked over to the mirror, to see if the token had changed her appearance.

Nothing seemed amiss at first, until she looked closely at her eyes. There were flecks of purple in her iris that seemed unnatural. What in the world could it mean? She reached for her hairbrush and accidentally knocked it off her vanity. By reflex, she held out her hand, and the brush stopped in mid air, creeping back up until it rested in her palm.

4th of October, 1919
​
One by one, the teams and crews scattered throughout the Ossuary Islands awoke to their second day of exploration. The Nixe had compiled a report and, while breakfast was prepared over a campfire, the Commodore read the document aloud to his companions, including Warren and his officers. "So, Islands IX and X aren't really islands after all, and there's shadow mass. It's a shipwreck and some kind of... large... skull. I guess that's what Mr. Ivanov was referring to, yesterday. Must have been a morbid site. Captain Dobbs diverted his attention to VII and VIII and discovered some kind of academy on VII, along with 'water constructs.' Mr. Detlev, what do you reckon he means by that?"

"I'm assuming he means canals," Detlev replied idly while chewing on a piece of bacon.

Meinhardt nodded. "Noted. The Correntino has had a rough go at exploring Island III... we lost a sailor there. I believe you warned them yesterday about the potential danger of that island, did you not?"

Detlev gave a sad nod. "Indeed I did."

"Let's see..." Meinhardt continued. His face went pale. "Flint says he's found undead on the main island."

"You're kidding!" Detlev burst out. "We had the reports, but I didn't really think-"

Meinhard tapped the report with his other hand. "He went into the pyramid, found undead, and real black aetherine. This could be huge. I can't wait to reunite with him and learn about what he's seen over there. Okay, that being said, it seems like the Archangel diverted as well to Island VI after finding nothing but 'pristine' architecture. Given the timestamp, they really didn't spend a whole lot of time there."

"Treasure hunters," Detlev said, shaking his head. "And what about Island VI?"

Meinhardt shook his head. "Nothing. No report yet." After taking a long sip of coffee, he ordered a petty officer to return to the Nixe and have a telegram sent out to the fleet. "By the way, when we get the chance, there's a little experiment I'd like to run," he said, thinking about the feather in his pocket. Detlev raised an eyebrow and smiled.

Good morning to all STOP
Excellent work reported STOP
Continue exploration STOP
For your diligence an honor STOP
Please name your islands FULL STOP​
 
Flint awoke calmly from his dream, feeling like the bed in his cabin was equally comfortable to one found in some grand hotel. As the taste of tobacco that lingered on his lips took him back over two decades, to when he was a sprightly young man, he looked down upon the looking glass in his lap. Taking it into his hand, he looked it over thoroughly. He ran his hand over the silver edge and inspected the slightly crimson colored glass that glistened in the light let in through the window as the morning sun rose outside. Although the glass of the mirror was an odd color, Flint did not observe anything particularly strange about his visage as he peered into the mirror.
After getting dressed, he placed the looking glass onto the desk next to the black aetherine charm. He eyed both of the objects in silence before sitting down and opening his log book. As he had done with the earlier dream, Flint noted important details of his dream in the footer of the previous days page.

The garden inside the ziggurat, sacred? Holy? To who?
Veiled Lady.
Silver spyglass.
Dispose of black aetherine charm?
The queen urges it?

Like before, Flint was left with more questions than answers. This time however, he didn't feel as frustrated. The veiled lady had appeared to him, divulged that she was working for a queen and even bestowed him with a gift. Furthermore, the garden had seemed brilliant and welcoming, a clear contrast to the dark and damp chamber they had encountered in the temple. The veiled woman's presence had also made him feel a plethora of things. Warm, refreshed, relaxed and even younger. He would hope that he could encounter her again. He would not, however, throw away the aetherine charm. Even though he had received the mirror in exchange for disposing of it, he was not quite ready to give it up just yet. For now he would leave it behind and take the looking glass with him instead. In any case, Kuromaki had one that she could give to the commodore and his scientists.

As he sat and ate breakfast in the officers mess, he told the men about his dream and presented the looking glass. The officers looked upon it with curiosity, but not the awe that they had when Dos Santos presented the carved glass. It had become apparent that the mysterious sea did not follow the same conventions as their own reality, so items appearing out of dreams had been quickly accepted as fact. During the breakfast, Flint told Rourke that there would be a change of plans. Instead of inspecting the scroll, he would accompany him and some men into the tunnel that led below the garden.
The lieutenant nodded understandingly. The lady had said it was sacred, and needed to stay that way. It was a vague instruction, but he could see why the captain had changed his mind. Instead, Kuromaki would be delegated to accompany the Alamannians along with one of the sailors who knew a safe way into the chamber with the scroll. Flint would also leave the aetherine charm on the ship. If he was going somewhere that he had been told was holy, it would not be wise to bring such a tainted item with him. He picked the looking glass up from the table, wrapping it in a cloth and placed into one of his jackets inner pockets.

Having finished their breakfast, Flint and Rourke stepped out onto the bridge balcony and watched the men gather the supplies they would need for the coming excursion. Rask and Von Paning, wounded as they were, would not join them. They would need to exercise more caution when venturing into unknown parts of the ziggurat. Along with the canary, the sailors had also brought with them additional gas masks, waders and raincoats. If any of that was really needed was anyone's guess, but given the trials they had faced so far in the necropolitan temple, they would not take any chances.

When everything was ready, the group from the Terror disembarked from their ship and headed for the camp where Meinhardt's scientists and Kuromaki were. With the group now assembled, they began making their way through the city, back up to the ziggurat. Managing the trip without any encounters with the undead, the group parted ways at the split where the guardian had been. As Kuromaki, the scientists and the one sailor headed for the scroll chamber, Flint, Rourke and their men headed for the garden.

As they arrived, they began preparing themselves for the descent. With the caged canary, one of the suited up sailors walked into the garden to check the air. The bird seemed to be unaffected, signaling that the air, at least in the garden, was safe to breath. As Flint, Rourke and two additional sailors suited up, the rest of their men anchored a sturdy rope ladder onto the heavy roots. With everything taken care of, they began their descent into the dark tunnel. Rourke went down first, the canary cage hanging off his belt.
 
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Jolting awake with pain, Dobbs clutched at his abdomen for a few moments before bringing a hand to his mouth and wiped the blood away. He observed the stains on his hand for a moment, before finally coming to his senses back in the waking world. Slowly, he moved himself to sit on the bedside and breathed heavily. That man again... WHO is he? I... know him? But I have no memory of him! Dobbs thought to himself as he tried to make sense of what he had seen again in his dreams. And that sword once more... it's becoming a theme now.

He brought his notebook and wrote down the details of his dream, as much as he could anyway, before setting it aside and slowly getting up. He was still wracked with pain in his abdomen and he felt as if he had been sick for nearly a week. He felt dizzy, but not so much so that it prevented him from shuffling his way over to his washbowl to get ready for the day. As he wiped his face with the cool water stored inside, he felt a sense of relief as it helped him wake up even more so but didn't exactly get rid of his sickly feeling. Perhaps with time it will go away by the later day? He didn't know, but opted to take that chance.

As he dressed and stepped out of his tent, he saw that most of the camp was already up and enjoying breakfast as well as preparing for another day of exploration. There still seemed to be a lot that was undiscovered about the academy, and both Dobbs and Lonstray were more than eager to find out exactly what else lay in store. Lonstray did notice Dobbs' demeanor however and gave a look of slight concern before returning his attention to scolding his assistants for improperly setting up equipment.

"Captain, a telegram from the Nixe!" a sailor announced to Dobbs, to which the man only responded with a nod before reading the message to himself. He was somewhat surprised that he would be able to name the island they were upon, and it would be something he'd have to ruminate upon. He didn't want to pick something silly, or something too devoid of that 'exploratory spirit'. Afterwards, Dobbs would return to the main exploration group and found them all ready save for the captain himself. "Captain, what are our orders?" a sailor asked.

"We find whatever is creating those water constructs inside the academy and deactivate it, then we search the academy for whatever we can find."

And so, they were off. It took a bit of time, less so than before thanks to the pathway cleared beforehand for them to arrive at the academy. And when they entered, Dobbs motioned for them to begin their search. In the meantime, he would keep on guard for any of the waters coming to life so that he could disperse them before they became a threat.
 
Anastasia was still a little overwhelmed by everything as she remained seated at her vanity. The dream - if it had even been that - felt more real than any she had before. Like how she visited Ishra, this time she visited another place. What was it called? The Ashes or something like that? It had been an entire city with buildings, and the marketplace, and of course the demons. It was something out of a fairy tale. She had read plenty over the years and the idea of being transported to a different realm wasn't a foreign concept, yet still one which was utterly fantastical. Something that remained only in story books and not in reality. And not only had she been through something like that again, she had proof of her visit. Anastasia examined the pretty ring with the purple gem and found it somewhat comforting. Simple in design as it was, there was no denying that it had some class to it. Other than the ring, there was the purple now in her eyes, and that had stolen her breath away when she saw it. Expecting changes was one thing, and actually witnessing them was another. Ultimately, a minor change in eye color was hardly an offensive change, and could easily be written off as a genetic quirk to strangers. After all, albino people had red eyes. How much more strange was a little purple?

And finally there was the... magic. Tentatively, she dropped her brush again and thought about stopping it in mid air and bringing it back. She watched in utter fascination as it obeyed again, and she tried the same thing with a few other small objects. Visitations, a ring, a coin, and a little change in eye color - all phenomenal, but not as phenomenal as actual sorcerous power. Was she a witch now? The old world had so many fables of ladies who did magic, as fairy tale-esque they were. Apparently they weren't always tales, or at least not here. As fascinating as it was, it was also a little scary. It was different and almost unnatural. Since when had anyone ever seen this kind of magic in real life? Perhaps as a carnival trick, with illusions and optical trickery, but this was real.

She summoned Lieutenant Williams that morning and he stopped by shortly. At first he didn't seem to notice anything different until she pointed at her eyes, and he finally noticed the change. "Incredible... I never anticipated that I'd see a transformation among this crew. All things considered, compared to that skeleton, its a rather innocuous change. Does it hurt? Do you see differently?" He asked with some concern. Anastasia shook her head. "No, I almost didn't notice it myself. I don't mind. I wonder if it will continue to grow and change, of if it will stay as it is. What was the name of that woman, Dos Santos or something? The one with the animal paw? I think hers was spreading. I wonder if this is similar. What a strange land this is where such things can happen. However, that is not all, lieutenant...." She casually knocked her hairbrush off the vanity again and repeated the little show of telekinesis. Williams was once more astonished, even as he tried to hide it. "Incredible," he repeated. "As you say, this is something out of a fairy tale. Now I wonder what truth lay in those old tales. Makes me a little afraid to go back hope. Some of those native stories about spirits...." Anastasia held up her hand. "Do not fret, lieutenant. Had they been real, we would have noticed by now. Maybe they once were but not anymore, I think. Still... it does make one wonder. Did you ask around the wardroom about... how people would feel about changes?"

"Yes, captain, to some extent last night and this morning. I think it is safe to say everyone may feel a little differently to it but I heard no religious objections. Most on the crew don't seem to be particular sticklers for the church, even as their files mark them down as practicing. The pioneers brought picks, shovels, and guns with them, but I think they left god behind. I think we have carried that tradition here." Anastasia nodded. Sokrovy was an interesting little place. There were even those who willingly choose to partake in the native animist culture, using totems or charms, and observing the spiritualistic rituals. She didn't think many believed it, but it was more a cultural observation. Even she had some wood totems laying around somewhere. They were just trinkets. "If I may suggest, you may wish to wear some glare glasses until you can meet the officers yourself throughout the day. Warm them up to it. There should be some around here, we have plenty." Indeed, they found a pair of polarized circular glasses, with little shields along the peripherals. They were needed for sailors especially around Sokrovy given the sunlight's terrible glare on pack ice and snow. It made watches difficult and even hazardous to one's eyesight.

As it was still early in the day, orders were given to offload on the island once more to scour it clean again - in additional detail. Rules were put in place to not loot precious metals without officer permission as guidelines were currently being drafted. More patrols would be set out along the shoreline, and two dinghy craft were deployed to search the shallows for evidence of a dock or landing area for those who once visited this place. Shipwrecks and docks were excellent treasure sites. Even a pot of rusted coins could yield some value. Meanwhile, Anastasia Kortova experimented further with her powers with Williams, seeing what sort of objects she could lift, bring towards her from across the room, if she could catch things out of mid air at speed - such as a tossed ball - along with objects on a person, such as Williams' officers cap.

Names for the islands had not been decided yet, but Kortova sent word out that the crew and officers could put forth names for island V, while she would likely name island VI herself. No one seemed to object, and sergeants were spending time collecting lots and recording suggested names, as well as filtering out some of the more inappropriate answers. Also that morning, Williams directed a telegram to be sent to the Nixe as they had been remiss in their duty yesterday.

Archangel reports all well STOP
Island VI similar to island V STOP
Pristine architecture to be considered site of cultural or religious significance STOP
Nonhuman but humanlike skeletal remains found STOP
Names for islands under current vote STOP
Island VI under continual exploration today FULL STOP​


"You know, lieutenant, I think we should keep this information about these demon-like people to ourselves. Keep it among the officers, and disseminate it among the crew as we learn more. Sure, we can talk about the skeleton and other remains, but not the... visitations. Or my 'dream' I had last night. Perhaps we may be able to physically share these experiences with the other officers. You should try wearing my ring one night and see what happens, lieutenant. But the other ships, and the Commodore, should be kept at a distance for now," Anastasia explained to Williams at one point in the day. Naturally, he asked why, and Anastasia looked at him directly.

"He must be hiding something. Consider what has happened to me and we haven't even been here an entire week yet. This isn't even his first journey. Surely, he must know more about these supernatural creatures. I don't think Ishra knows him because she indicated it had been centuries since someone had sat in that chair, but that doesn't rule it out. Not to mention, she spoke of Wulfera, and we know of other gods. If one of them must be real, aren't the others? I'm worried, is all. He asked us to tell him about our dreams. I can't tell if that is out of concern or other matters. Well, I'm not so naive, you know. I'm very smart. We will do this carefully. Sokrovy first, after all. Though if I have more physical changes, we'll have to explain things carefully. Especially if others on the crew are open to such changes happening to them. After all, what if all the officer's grew horns?"

Lieutenant Williams considered it, patting the top of his officer's slouched kepi. "I think I would need a new hat then, captain."
 
When morning came, the Alleghenian camp prepared for a new day of exploring the second island's ruins. Slater made her way to Warren's tent, and found the Commander sitting at his table once again. A fresh cup of coffee in hand, and a look on his face like he hadn't got much sleep at all during the night. He had written some things down on a notepad, apparently keeping track of his dreams. "Commander? Are you alright?" she asked, when Warren didn't look up. "Not really, Lieutenant." he muttered, before sipping from his coffee.

After a moment, he looked up to her. "I had a nightmare last night. I was back home in Alleghenia, at a train station. A man spoke to me, before stepping off the train platform into an oncoming train's path. He was...splattered all over the tracks. Then, these people started to appear...with skull like faces." he explained, before looking back down to the cup in his hands. "I ran out of the station into the street, and...the city was falling apart. Rotten wood, broken stone...there was sea water everywhere in the street. Then the same man that spoke to me reappeared, also with a skull-like face. He said that I couldn't leave this place and that I 'needed to finish his work'. Then he gave me some sort of crystal that allows me to see how he looked before he died if I looked through it."

Slater raised an eyebrow, giving him a confused look. "Who's work?" she asked. Warren shrugged. "I've no idea. But I know it has something to do with black aetherine. He also said that I needed to follow Merphrau in order to do so." Warren looked up to Slater to see that she bore an even more confused expression. Warren sighed. "...I didn't tell you last night. I touched a piece of blue aetherine that the scouts found, and had a vision of that winged mermaid we keep seeing around here. Her name is apparently Merphrau...and she said that she was once the goddess of all the oceans. She's apparently gone, as is Wulfera...but apparently Wulfera is trying to get out of some place called 'the Ashes' and that we need to stop her from doing so. She claims its the only way to keep the world safe."

Slater folded her arms. "Have you spoken to Meinhardt yet?" she asked, to which Warren shook his head. "Not yet. I plan to today while you and the others are searching the island." he responded, before gulping down more coffee. "...Speaking of which, get Riddle to assemble a group. We're gonna try and find that temple, and see if we can move that big rock the old man spoke of out of the way."
 
It was still early in the morning when Alvarado ordered everyone to get ready to gather some more samples from Island III and prepare to move to Island IV, but people quickly noticed the absence of Dr. Dos Santos on the deck. Alvarado went to check on her, knocking on her door a few times until she told him to come in. When the captain walked into the room, he noticed Dos Santos sitting at the edge of the bed, pressing her back against the wall. She was barely visible in the dark room. "...Are you okay, Ms. Dos Santos?"

The doctor remained quiet for a few minutes before raising both her hands, revealing the blood on them. "...I had a nightmare... i-it was... horrible..." she said, shyly. "I... dreamed I got... killed by that thing. The animal... I was alone... in the dark flooded jungle. I... was afraid, captain." Alvarado was a bit speechless, not only due to the blood on her hands but also because both her hands had mutated now. "...It's okay to be scared of such monst-" Dos Santos quickly interrupted him. "No... not that... I was afraid that the crew had left me to die alone." Alvarado went quiet for a moment, before approaching the researcher. He covered her with a blanket and then helped her get up. "...Go wash your hands, doctor. We have work to do."

An hour later, there was a lot questions going around the deck until the captain came back with the doctor next to him. The orders for today were rather simple: take a team of 15 men and drag the remains of the crocodile creature out of the water. And take one last look at the ruins nearby. Alvarado would lead the group, while Dos Santos would spend this time dissecting the 'evil flower' that Alvarado and his team had to kill on their way to the ruins. "Before I go, doctor." said Alvarado, while some of his men we preparing to get back on the island. "The commodore wants us to name these islands. Got any suggestions?" Dos Santos didn't know how to respond to that. "...Let the crew decide, captain."

Alvarado nodded, a bit saddened by the response. "...Alright, we won't take too long. Once we are back, we'll head to the other island." Dos Santos nodded, walking away, but stopped when the captain called her again. "...And Ana, please remain strong. Remember that you are the face of our crew, we need you." He tried to give the doctor a friendly smile,and Dos Santos smiled back at him. "...Thank you, captain, take care." She then went down to her makeshift lab to start studying the dead flower. Maybe it had some properties that could be useful?
 
The weather on October 4th was much more mild than the tempest the fleet suffered the previous day. On the main island, Kuromaki decided that she was no longer willing to deal with her affliction alone. She demanded a cure at once, and was increasingly agitated that no one else seemed to care. She skipped breakfast, stormed onto the Terror with a translator in tow, and requested the telegraph operator to send a message to the Nixe:

Ensign Kuromaki to Commodore STOP
Affliction progressing rapidly STOP
Dreamed important name Ishra STOP
Must locate soon all fleet notice STOP
Imperial order FULL STOP
​
During her entire stay aboard the Alamannian cruiser, she had never felt the need to invoke Imperial authority on Commodore Meinhardt, and wasn't sure nor particularly concerned with his reaction. Their nations' agreement dictated that if she felt so inclined, she could make any reasonable demand of her host captain which did not violate the peace or maritime law which, while nonbinding, would result in an inquiry if he or she disregarded the order. Since her request - to inform the entire fleet of the need to find this "Ishra," was a simple and easy one; Meinhardt would definitely follow through to avoid the headaches that would result if he didn't.

Sure enough, a reply arrived within half an hour.

Addendum all fleet please advise STOP
Ishra name of high interest STOP
Report any relevant findings STOP
Time sensitive need immediatly FULL STOP
​
Satisfied, she quickly reunited with the away team and joined them on their second mission into the pyramid. Passing by the first split in the pathways, they arrived at the second fork where the guardian had stood and took the right-side path as Captain Flint directed. Using their notes from the previous day, they easily avoided the punji trap and reached the room with the scroll. There, they carefully examined the lectern and found another additional trap trigger, which they were able to disengage without suffering whatever was in store for them if they had recklessly taken the artifact. Unable to decipher anything of meaning on the site, they decided to take the scroll back to the Terror for additional analysis. Delicately, they stowed it inside of a canvas bag and exited the chamber to wait for Flint and his men in the diverging hall outside.

Unfortunately, the simplicity of Kuromaki's half of the expedition was completely unlike what Captain Flint experienced.

Well-suited up and prepared, a smaller sub-team of explorers including Captain Flint himself reached the sacred gardens at the same time Kuromaki arrived in the scroll room. After confirming the safety of the air, it was determined that they would proceed down the vertical chute. They secured their rope ladder and began to descend, with Rourke leading the way. They went slowly and methodically, and everything was fine at first. Then, trouble began to arise. "Captain, I think the wall is sloping away from us," Rourke said. To this point, the tips of his toes had been touching the stone at each step, but now he felt nothing and the ladder wanted to twist a bit with each step. "If this gets any worse," he grumbled, "We're going to be hanging here."

Flint thought about it for a moment and decided that proceeding as they were could be dangerous. If the ladder wasn't long enough, they might become trapped dangling above the unknown, or worse, the ladder's swinging and twisting could cause them to fall completely off the rope. As he was about to call off the descent, however, Rourke dropped a pebble he had been carrying, and the team could hear it splash water directly below them. Using their flashlights to look together and with bit of quick math, they determined that the surface of the water was only about twelve feet below them in the pitch dark chamber. The ladder didn't quite reach, but it was close enough that they could improvise a way to return to it using some of the spare rope they brought along.

"Fine then, let's go for it," Rourke said after they had discussed the trouble, and then quickly climbed down, hitting the water a moment later. "It's about two feet deep, Captain!" he called out. Flint, despite his age, was able to drop the remaining distance without hurting himself, and was soon followed by the other two men in his group. The water was cool without being chilling, and was clean enough that they could now see the floor beneath them now that they were close.

"That wasn't so bad," one of the scouts mumbled. At the same moment, there was a loud click from somewhere above them, and when they shone their flashlights up the tunnel, they witnessed a large slab sliding out of the opposite wall from their ladder. It had been suspended on an incline, so that it hit the opposite wall of the shaft with some force, pinning their ladder in place while trapping them in the room.

"Oh fuck!" Rourke shouted with a grimace. He lowered his beam and pointed it around the room. The walls were carved intricately with images of the sort of trees they had seen above, as well as hundreds of skull-faced angels hovering above them. Hidden among the innumerable grooves were tiny openings which allowed the rainwater from the chamber above to trickle through, although without severe weather, it only served to render the engravings a glistening masterpiece. The carvings formed a sort of pattern which guided the eyes toward the other end of the room, where a raised stone bore a sarcophagus. On the sides of said object were small ports which drizzled some sort of dark liquid which the explorers briefly mistook for shadow mass.

However, Captain Flint was the first to realize that, unlike the dreaded, inky fluid the Commodore had showed them days earlier, what they were now seeing lacked the sort of adhesiveness that caused the other sample to bead the way it did within the glass tubing. Rather than rolling down the side of the sarcophagus, this fluid ran freely until it hit the surface of the water, where a thin stream of what appeared to be smoke rose above the surface. Boldly, Flint donned his gas masked and walked over, pointing his flashlight directly at the meeting point. He confirmed that whatever fluid was draining from the sarcophagus appeared to be burning as it hit the water, rising into the air as smoke rather than mixing with the pool.

Then, before they could even discuss the curiosity, there was another loud clank from somewhere within the walls, and a stone dropped free from the wall of the opposite side of the room from the sarcophagus, loudly splashing as a torrent of murky water began pouring into the chamber! There was another round of obscenities from the crew as it became clear that the water around their knees was beginning to rise. As if this wasn't enough, however, something long and slimy flowed into the room through the opening and slithered its way towards the men. Rourke reached for his pistol, but it was Flint who was better prepared, drawing immediately and firing a shot at what proved to be an eel-like fish that reeled back after being struck by a bullet. Popping above the water in the process, it was revealed to be covered in shimmering white scales that seemed to glow at the tips of its fins. Its eyes were an eerie, albino red.
---​

By the morning of the 4th, the blood samples collected from Dr. Dos Santos and Ensign Kuromaki had become useless, and Dr. Lonstray's team had still not produced any major discovery. Under the microscope, it was clear that the blood cells were giving off an unusual amount of lipid vesicles, but the purpose was unclear; as they collided with other cells, they were quickly absorbed. The doctor suspected that this was the transmission of some sort of trans-formative factor, but he had no proof of this as there was no way to tell presently which cells were human and which cells were altered. New samples would need to be taken to continue the research.

It was a disappointment, for sure, but with the discovery of the academy on Island VII and its strange water creatures, there was plenty of buzz and optimism among the crew of the Prophet as they redoubled their exploration efforts. Without the heavy rains, no more of said creatures appeared aside from blobs no larger than golf balls wobbling around on the grass, making it easy for the Albionians to trek around the grounds and locate additional structures belonging to the ancient academy. It was then that they encountered another find which rivaled the first: there was an octagonal structure with a domed roof that still stood, its copper lining having turned a dark and illustrious shade of emerald green above the off-white marble of its walls, stained from centuries of rain against the metallic roof. The doors were shut and long-corroded, but with significant force, the explorers were able to jar them open wide enough that a man could step through while walking sideways, and that is exactly how they entered.

Inside, there was even more fanfare than yesterday as the explorers found themselves looking at what was undoubtedly a library. An intact library. Trembling with excitement, they gently took one of the remaining books off the shelf, which was wrapped tightly in a sheath of silk and bound neatly in leather. Although the covers and pages were crumbling at the edges, opening the tome revealed pages which were still clearly legible with ancient, handwritten Altanic script. There were dozens, if not more than a hundred books in similar condition arranged on a semicircular shelf around the interior of the building, which had no windows, but sconces in recessed sections of the walls where there was still waxy residue.

It would be a long and arduous process, but if enough of these books contained illustrations or diagrams, or if they bore some resemblance to the ancient languages of other civilizations, it was possible that Captain Dobbs and his crew might be able to achieve the greatest triumph yet in the field of Altanic studies: to crack a language which was previously thought lost to the world.

---
​
The Archangel's crew was abuzz with curiosity as it prepared for its next outing. The officers had been asking strange questions about religious matters and transformations, which caused some mild concern, but overall there was little concern as nothing bad had happened to the ordinary sailors. Behind the scenes, however, Kortova and her fellow officers were confronting the supernatural. It began with experiments between the Grand Captain and her first officer: Kortova found that she was able to telekinetically lift objects as heavy as ten pounds from a distance of around ten feet, and control them gracefully in the air. Her new talent had felt awkward at first, as if she had triggered it subconsciously on the first few tries, but within an hour it felt as natural as any movement of her body.

Objects which were thrown in her general direction were at first difficult to "grab" with her power, but again, Kortova soon found the ability natural to use, snatching things like her hairbrush, a pocket watch, a book, and Williams' cap out of the air with ease, and she could even orient them in the process so that she could grab her brush by its handle or the book by its spine. Only objects thrown at the ground with significant force proved too difficult to master, as she could slow them but not catch them before they hit the floor of her cabin. Additionally, the pair noted that whenever Kortova used her new powers, the gem in the ring on her finger glowed dimly. Experimentally, she removed the ring, and while the violet flecks in her irises remained as they were, she found herself unable to use her telekinesis. She also felt a hollowing feeling within herself which brought about a sense of dread. She quickly placed the ring back on her finger and felt immediate relief.

Together, they then informed the staff officers of the ship of the incredible discovery they had made. Reactions were mixed, but generally positive. The men and women were amazed by Kortova's abilities and felt an admiration for the Grand Captain that many had never felt with any sincerity. Some expressed a desire to have the same abilities, regardless of any bodily changes which might come along with it. But a similar roadblock arose when anyone spoke such a desire: if they wanted these powers, they would need to do as Kortova did, and seek out a deal with a demon. When matters of the soul were brought up, there was obvious trepidation. Even if the officers weren't staunchly religious, the concept of eternity weighed on their minds.

Outside, the exploratory teams scoured the island for more discoveries, totally unaware of their leader's fantastic experiences and transformation. They had been ordered to pay special attention to the shoreline, as there was doubtlessly some place where boats were meant to come ashore, and there they would possibly find remains of said boats. However, after several hours, they found no such landing. The most likely location would have been at the end of what appeared to be a crumbling stone pathway which reached the sand of the beach, but again, there was no evidence of a dock. They concluded that if there had been a dock here at some point, it was probably made of wood and had rotted away completely over the centuries. Otherwise, the only craft which visited here were very small rowboats or catamarans.

Inland, the vanguard team entered the tunnel for the second time and descended its stairs to the chambers below. The previous day, they had made limited progress, but now they were more committed to exploring the foreboding structure and, after setting up a lantern, found themselves in a circular room with four doorways into attached triangular chambers which presumably formed a star pattern, as there was a fifth doorway which was locked and heavily engraved with a disturbing scene; it depicted a young man and woman being dragged downward by frightening demonic creatures as they reached skyward in want of salvation. In each accessible room there appeared to be a sort of shrine to a demonic creature, with bronze, life-size idols seated on thrones at the point of the room.

The explorers took note of the engravings on each set of open doors before entering the chambers. The first doors depicted a human on their knees, cradling a handful of precious gems - real gems - which were embedded within the door itself and gleaming in the lantern light. Inside, the idol at the far end was a tall and thin woman who had two sets of arms which glittered with gold jewelry embedded with a staggering number of gems. On the demon's head was a crown, which likewise possessed incredible value. The floor was almost totally covered with ancient, corroded coins. When light was shined on the idol's face, the crown shifted slightly on its head, startling the explorers, but nothing else occurred. One of the men approached and, following the orders they had been given, refrained from removing the crown from its position, but rather gently slid it back into place with his flashlight.

The second doorway was engraved with an image of a human man holding what appeared to be a crystal ball, and within, the same engraving was miniaturized so that there was recursion. The same subject was looking at himself within another, smaller crystal ball, and so on. Behind the doorway there were mirrors, both of the standard glass type, as well as mirrors made from polished black stone. The vanguards who entered this room found themselves projected on every surface except for the idol at the far end of the room, who was a very handsome horned man with a long beard, who seemed to be pointing down at them from his thrown dismissively. As they held up their lights, again there was mysterious movement: this time, a simple silk shroud which was draped across his body and over his shoulder slid from its position to fall limply on the floor. This time, no one approached, instead leaving the room immediately after noting its details.

The third accessible doorway depicted an orgy, with dozens of men, women, and demons engaged in all manner of sexual activities. Beyond lay a chamber headed by a fully naked idol of a hermaphroditic demon whose genitalia was gilded. Below the idol was a cloth mat which had nearly disintegrated with age. Reluctantly, the explorers shined their lights on the face of the idol to see what sort of reaction it would cause. While no physical reaction occurred, the team heard a mysterious whisper travel through the room which gave them goosebumps... and a surge of arousal. None of them spoke about it, but just from the looks on each other's faces, they all knew individually what sort of effect the room was having on them and they quickly exited in shame.

The final of the four open chambers was positioned behind a doorway which showed a man sporting a wide grin, lofting an ax high above his head as a woman on the ground appeared to be begging for mercy. Sheepishly, the Sokrovians stepped in to find a sparsely-decorated room with a fully-armored demon as its idol. In front of them, there was a simple stone block on the ground with a channel carved forward to the base of the idol. The purpose was obvious: people were beheaded in this room, possibly as a sacrifice to whichever demon they were worshiping. After what had occurred in the previous chamber, the explorers intentionally avoided pointing their lights at the idol and departed. They brought their notes back up to the surface shortly thereafter to inform the Grand Captain of their findings.

---​

On Island II, Commander Warren approached the Commodore to find him scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper using a quill of all things, until he realized that Meinhardt was actually writing using the red feather he had received in a dream the previous day. As soon as he had finished signing his name at the bottom of the page, the paper began to fold itself, and with a wide grin, Meinhardt watched as it formed the shape of a bird, just as it had in his dreams. It took flight from the rock he had been writing against and flapped its way across the beach to Lieutenant Detlev, who, equally excited, plucked the note out of the air, whereupon it unfolded itself to become perfectly flat once again.

"That's perfect!" Detlev shouted in astonishment as he ran back up to the campsite. "I can't believe my eyes, sir, but... magic is real! It really must be! We've been out here trying to act like there's some kind of science that we don't understand yet, that we can make this sort of stuff measurable, but..."

Meinhardt had already burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. "No, I agree, Mr. Detlev. All that we read about the previous expeditions that we dismissed can't be dismissed anymore, all of it. I want the logs re-examined by your staff and I don't want a single detail to be discarded as impossible. Treat it all as objective truth, and tell me what we're likely to find if we keep up our travels."

At that moment, another petty officer arrived with a message from the Nixe. The Commodore took it, read it quickly, and the smile disappeared from his face. "...Really now!?" he spat as he looked up, clearly bothered by the content. "It's Kuromaki. She's invoking Imperial authority."

"She's what?" Detlev replied, looking offended himself. "What does she want?"

Meinhardt rubbed his eyes. "Apparently her condition is getting worse. She's, without a doubt, desperate for a cure and thinks that someone or something called 'Ishra' is the answer. She heard of it in a dream and now she wants the whole damned fleet looking for it. She could have just asked me. There's no need for this kind of political horseshit."

Detlev nodded in agreement. "Besides, isn't that Albionian doctor already looking for an answer? Not to mention Dr. Dos Santos, too. How bad can it really be if she's this frightened? ...Come to think about it, I'm a little worried now."

"Why?" Meinhardt replied.

"Well, maybe it is that bad, sir. What if she's turning into some kind of monster?"

Meinhard sighed. "I've thought of that, too. It upsets me that she seems to think I don't care about her just because she's Shinjuku, but I want to see her condition improve just as much as I do for Dos Santos or any member of our own crew who might get infected down the line. If anything, trying to threaten me with this treaty nonsense is counterproductive because it strains one of the only real lines of support she has out here."

"Sir?"

"[Do I really want to help someone who seems to trust me so little?]" Meinhardt replied quietly in Alamannian, having noted Warren's approach. He then switched back to Albionian. "Of course, I'll send out a message to the fleet, but she and I are going to have a serious talk when we see each other again. You-" he said to the petty officer, "take down this message and have it sent to the whole fleet..."

A minute later, Meinhardt turned to Warren. "Alright, Commander, you look like you have something to tell me."

Meanwhile, the Alamannian and Alleghenian teams on Island II set out in search of the destroyed temple Ivanov had mentioned. It took a few hours, but at around 1PM, they located the structure which the old man had told them about, along with the entrance which had been blocked by a heavy stone. On close inspection it seemed that Ivanov was exaggerating; although the slab was far too heavy for a single man to move, it was easily accomplished with three- no draft animals needed. With a loud thump, the stone slab fell to the ground and revealed a partially-collapsed temple interior. They shined their lights around the room, noting that the mosaics and paintings which decorated the floors and walls, while beautiful, were less impressive than many of the ancient works of the old world countries. The Alamannian team leader suspected that the entire temple may have been erected hastily.

Regardless, these decorations showed the winged mermaid the crews had now become familiar with in a heroic light, doing battle with the angelic Wulfera. There was little else of note, as the crumbling temple appeared as if it were partially burnt. One of the Alleghenian scouts, however, discovered a rather nice pendant made of coral discarded at the scene. As he picked it up, though, he shined his light at the wall beyond and let out a bit of a yelp, as there were beads of shadow mass all over the back wall of the temple. The two teams quickly exited due to the dangerous condition, with the pendant being the only artifact worth taking.

---​

While the mood aboard the Correntino and in its camps was rife with anxiety, the men and women had picked themselves up from the previous evening's grief and were ready to work again. The mood improved further when Mancinelli stirred from his coma and was able to take in some sugar water by mouth, which seemed to awaken him enough to have a short conversation with his attendant before dozing back off into a peaceful sleep. His wounds were slightly infected and being treated with antibiotics with apparent success, as he did not have a fever.

Dos Santos settled in to inspect the mutant flower which was removed from the jungle. First, she created a detailed sketch of the remains for future reference before photographing the now slightly-wilted flower. Then, she took out a surgical knife and cut it apart while wearing gloves and goggles into the component tissues: the petals, the stem, and of course, the eye, before carefully cutting into the latter and collecting some of the various fluids into test tubes. The yellow defense fluid was still extremely potent, and after significantly diluting a droplet of it, she was able to determine that the fluid was full of cells. Under a microscope, she could see them moving about like white blood cells and attacking impurities in the mixture, and hypothesized that the majority of the yellow goop was nutrition for these microscopic actors.

Sure enough, after some intense observation, she watched the cells devour some of the proteins suspended in the liquid. As some of the cells began to divide, Dos Santos concluded that if a suitable mixture could be created, the defensive cells could be cultured and mass-produced. However, despite her repeated attempts using various substitutes, she was not able to witness the cells absorb anything except their native fluid. Additionally, after calling up the soldier who had suffered serious burns on his arm the previous day, the doctor was able to confirm that the cells were not able to subsist on human blood or extracellular fluid. They had attacked the soldier's flesh violently before gradually dying off or being washed away.

Although her progress was limited, Dos Santos noted that she had collected enough of the defensive fluid to continue her experiments for at least two more days before the cells would die off of nutrient starvation. Additionally, the other tissues including the mysterious eye were successfully preserved by refrigeration and would be possible to experiment on for at least a week.

Elsewhere, Alvarado and his team followed their tracks from the previous day deep into the jungle, and although it was still dark under the thick canopy, visibility had at least improved thanks to the minimal rain. They had two aims: to recover the dead body of the huge crocodile they had killed the day before, and better explore the stone ruins they had discovered at the same time. Travel was easier now, and they reached the ruins much earlier than they had expected, at around noon. However, the reptilian beast was nowhere to be found. Markings in the muddy grass indicated that something else had dragged it off, perhaps another of its kind, or some sort of scavenger.

They returned to the ruins. Now able to view it more clearly, they documented its shape and quickly realized that they were standing at the collapsed entrance of an ancient mine shaft. Remembering the earlier speculation that there could be raw aetherite within, the captain quickly called for preparations to explore the shaft. They were, however, weary of being attacked by hostile wildlife, and were vigilant as they lowered themselves in, one by one, through the narrow opening into the mine tunnels. Shining their flashlights about, they found plenty of ancient tool marks on the walls as well as crude inscriptions which seemed to indicate where the tunnels would lead, and, finally, a recognizable symbol: a simple arrow pointing upwards, along with a solitary word which might translate to "exit" or a similar word. They recorded in their logbooks.

Shortly thereafter, they began to descend down the slope deeper into the mine once they had determined that one path leading away from the entrance was dug purely to carry away rainwater, while the others were meant for work. Using their flashlights, they identified bits and pieces of ancient tools and other small and mundane items. There was no indication of how deep the tunnels would run, but they diligently recorded the shape of the system and any words and symbols inscribed on the wall. Eventually, they came to a large, natural chamber in the ground which was probably connected to a cave, and heard something slimy moving on the stone. They searched with their flashlights, alert, but found nothing until they looked upwards and discovered a massive, blob-like creature splayed out across the lumpy stone surface like an octopus.

It froze as the lights shone on it, then turned and swept with a giant tentacle that knocked Alvarado and two of his team members off their feet. They tumbled awkwardly into the cavern, but aside from a few scuffs and bruises, they were unharmed. From this new angle, they noticed a faint bluish glow coming from somewhere behind them, but until this creature could be dealt with, it would need to wait.
 
As the group splashed onto the floor of the dark chamber, they stood in silence. Both because the engraved murals on the walls awed them, but likewise because the general darkness unnerved them.
Then, as a mechanism click and sealed the group into the abyss with a loud thumb, the dread began to mount even more. The sailors joined in with profanities as Rourke cursed the trap door. Flint remained silent, grimacing to hide his nervousness as he inspected the stone slab. Up above, the remaining sailors noted when the door sealed their Captain and comrades in that unknown chamber.
One brave man volunteered, and climbed down the rope ladder and onto the slab. Noting its edges, the massive force which had slid the stone and sealed the entrance had also cracked it slightly. Even if minuscule, the impact had produced a small hole, through which the sailor could see lamplight bouncing on water and hear the voice of his compatriots.
"Captain! Lieutenant! Are you all right?". The shout echoed through the chamber, and the men were relieved that they had brought additional help. "Looks like our interest has gotten the better of us." Flint replied, shining his light onto the trapdoor. "You're gonna have to blast us out. Wait for my signal and then lower a new rope ladder, a longer one." The sailor replied in the affirmative, and then climbed up to prepare some dynamite. Two sticks ought to do the trick, as they only needed to break the slab and open the way.

Whilst they waited for help, Flint and his men inspected the chamber. While the engravings were beautifully carved and conveyed a clear picture, Flint could not find any particular meaning in them. The skull faced angels were clearly the undead, as referenced in the corridor mural, but what connection they had to the garden above he could not say. Even the gardens connection to this necropolis was uncertain. In his dream it had seemed to peaceful, and the veiled lady had told him to throw away the cursed charm bearing the sign of necromancy, the black aetherine. Even if the mural in the chamber offered no clear exposition, it did drew the group towards one of the far walls of the room. Upon reaching the wall they laid eyes upon the raised stone platform, where a sarcophagus rested.

The coffin was not exactly a welcome sight, surrounded by engravings of the undead and leaking a hot, black fluid. Carefully examining it, Flint could determine it was not black mass. Although relieved by this conclusion, the group was still weary of it, as they did not know what it was. But who was encased in it? He thought back onto the corridor mural. The man with the golden eyes? Perhaps the cloaked man, first of the undead? He looked to the hot fluid once again, remembering the cloaked man burning the book, and how he was depicted on top of the pyramid.

Suddenly, there was a splash. A stone crumbled into the water and water began to pour into the chamber, raising it slowly. As the group exchanged profanities again, even Flint had to utter a small "Ah, fuck" through gritted teeth. But a precarious situation turned into a dangerous one as a creature emerged through the hole and slithered into the water. The men drew their pistols, but their Captain drew first, shooting the beast and scoring a hit. As it rose out of the water, they could get a look at the eel-like fish with it's glowing fins.

"LIGHT THE FUSE!" Flint screamed on the top of his lungs as he tore off his gas mask. The sailor, who had listened to the commotion below, lit the dynamite bundle almost immediately and climbed back into the garden above. "Quickly, out of the water!" he continued, gesturing for his men to climb onto stone platform and the sarcophagus. Flint and Rourke climbed onto the sarcophagus, whilst the two sailors stood on the stone beneath them. None of them had brought rifles, but they all scouted the disturbed waters with their flashlights and pistols. "Steady now, boys. We've been in tougher spots than this and come out on top. Ain't that right, fellas?" Flint said in a low and serious tone. Rourke and the sailors simply nodded and replied with a unanimous Aye. They were reassured by their captains resolve and steadfastness, given the situation. But behind a deep frown and stern look, Flint was quite terrified. But he knew that he needed to remain in command for any of them to survive.
 
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With the rains having subsided, it seemed as though the water monsters no longer were forming into the large forms that had menaced the expedition group yesterday but rather coagulated as smaller harmless orbs on the ground. With this in mind, and Lonstray's advice, Dobbs kept the effort towards further exploration rather than searching for whatever was creating these things as they weren't a threat at the moment. Within the academy grounds now, the group had searched and found another unique structure but with closed doors that proved to be a challenge to get through. And eventually they did and upon entering, practically everyone was breathless apart from Lonstray who was muttering to himself in awe at the sheer amount of knowledge that was seemingly stored here.

"My... oh my..." Lonstray muttered at first as he gazed upon the shelved treasures before he and his assistants got their hands on a book and looked inside to see its nearly pristine inscriptions and illustrations made available to them. Lonstray remained looking at the book itself as everyone else looked around at took stock of what was available to them in this seemingly preserved treasure trove of knowledge. "Imagine the knowledge that we could gain... forbidden or not, from these texts. An insight into their culture and science... it would be like wielding the keys to the heavens themselves." Lonstray remarked to no one in particular as he gently moved the pages around within the book. He snapped out of his wonderment when he noticed one of his assistants giving him an odd look: "What are you guffawing at you fool? Get to counting how many there are!"

Dobbs meanwhile was unsure of what to think about all this, surely this was important for it have been stored like this and he thought to himself as to what were the contents of these books. Perhaps it had something to do with Astrius? After all, this academy seemingly worshiped him when it still had pupils and teachers within its halls and rooms. The captain quickly turned to the sailors with them: "You two," he pointed at his nearby companions, "Head back to camp and send a telegram to our ship. We need chests to move delicate cargo, and make it fast!" he said with a wide grin. They saluted and immediately went on their way back while Dobbs returned his attention to the library and Lonstray. "How long will it take to move these books back to the Prophet?" Dobbs asked as he ran his fingers along the binding of one of the books.

"Hard to say, we might need the full day depending on how many we can carry back at a time. And we will need to be extraordinarily delicate to ensure that the waters dont spoil any of the pages." Lonstray spoke as he took another book from a shelf and opened it to see the writing inside. "A discovery like this of this magnitude can change our entire understanding of the Altanic people if we translate these works and learning what's inside these books."

Meanwhile, as the sailors rushed back to the beach they spared no hurry as they ran through the brush towards their camp. One of them nearly tripped on the way, but they kept their fast pace as they returned to camp and informed the few that remained on the beachhead of what needed to be done.

REQUESTING ADDITIONAL SKIFF ON SHORE STOP
BRING STORAGE MATERIALS STOP
FRAGILE CARGO DISCOVERED STOP
​
Within an hour or so, another skiff was deployed from the Prophet with multiple crates and chests onboard for use on the cargo that was mentioned to the ship. Once it arrived, the sailors in the camp spared no time to unload them onto the shore well away from the waves and the shoreline as to any water to spoil them. From there, the sailors from the second skiff that had arrived as well as the two that had been sent by Dobbs began to carry crates and chests in groups of two back to the academy. Once they had arrived, they set them outside the doors of the library as most of them could not fit through the small opening that had been made. Once they had everything ready, Dobbs looked to everyone and smiled. "Let's get started, shall we?"
 
Anastasia Kortova stared down at the telegram leaflet in both of her hands. She studied it, reread it, and made a series of expressions. Lieutenant Williams, who was seated across from her at the small wooden table that made up the currently deserted wardroom, cleared his throat. "Your tea will go cold, captain," he reminded her. He had read the telegram as well, and while not particularly concerned, he knew Kortova would have a temper all throughout the afternoon and evening if her first tea of the day was spoiled by going cold. It had taken a little while for some of the cooks and her lady servant to perfect her tea mixtures. Finally, she sat the paper aside and greedily sipped at her still warm and slightly steaming tea.

"Why do they know that name," she murmured to herself. "Why do they want to know more?" Her gaze turned back to the yellow telegram slip and she glared at it. Williams carefully slid it over to his side of the table so that she wouldn't destroy it, as he didn't want to have to get another copy from the logbook. "I don't think you should be concerned, captain. We should tell them we know. I...." He hesitated for a second, wondering why he had been thinking of ways to get around this situation himself, as if he was some devious schoolboy thinking of excuses to escape punishment for something he had done at school. It seemed Kortova's juvenile demeanor was rubbing off on him. "I think we can point out the chair to them, and explain that some of us had the name appear in our minds around it. Thats isn't entirely a lie. You can certainly attest to that for yourself. We can probe them for more answers and see why they want to know more about our, um... benefactor? I don't even know what to call it. Or her. I must admit I am still weary about these relations, captain. It could be dangerous for you." And us, he added to himself. She considered it and ended up nodding, her head slumped into her hands as if she was falling asleep, though she was closer to being on the verge of a tantrum. "... good idea. We will do that."

A knock came upon the wardroom door and Williams allowed whoever was outside entry. It was a corporal, sweating slightly from having been moving quickly. The dust on his boots and trousers indicated he had been on the island. He saluted, took a deep breath, and handed over a report. "We've discovered a lot more, sir and ma'am. Chambers that appear to be places of worship for certain demonic idols. There have been very minor anomalous occurrences, but no one has been harmed, and we are currently awaiting orders for further study," the sailor reported. "Some are weary, others are excited. There have been no disciplinary problems aside from an argument over when we would be collecting more jewels and coins among a marine squad."

The man was dismissed and Williams turned about to look at the captain and was momentarily startled. Her eyes were wide and practically glowing. A gigantic, almost mischievously happy smile was spread across her face, and her head no longer propped up in exasperation, but in excitement. Her attitude shift was remarkably fast. "Oh, lets not dawdle, lieutenant, lets go check it out. More demons? Oh.... oh... this is exciting!" He simply nodded and followed after her as she made way off the ship, onto the island, and towards the chambers where the advance teams were waiting. Williams read off the report to her as they walked and she listened closely, enraptured.

Meanwhile, in passing, he sent the order for a telegram to be sent to the Nixe.
Ishra name vaguely encountered STOP
Further value of name unknown STOP
Location at Island VI STOP
Archangel on location FULL STOP
​
After a little time of listening to the sailors and reading the report, Kortova was practically bouncing between the doorways to the chambers they had discovered as she looked inside of each. Most of the advance team had been moved back outside so that they could rest, while a few remained to continue study at the captain's discretion, as well as several armed marines who loitered around keeping an eye on things. Williams had written a small memo of the discovery to be passed around the officers. Given all they had discussed recently regarding transformations and powers, he felt it prudent. If a chair could cause this cascade, what could rooms of apparent worship do?

All of it was enamoring to Kortova. Each inscription, each room, each idol she viewed from afar was met with a mixture of eagerness - for she wanted to see what they could give her - and jealousy - for she wanted to see what they could give her. She wanted to prance about all of the rooms just to see what would happen but for now, she held back. Her fascination with fairy tales and folklore hadn't come at the loss of many of the lessons they taught, even as she often ignored them. Here the lesson of greed seemed most potent. She had met this Ishra and received a boon, sort of like an apprentice-like connection. These were evidently other demons. Would she be in trouble for going to all of them asking for something? It would be like going to all the banks in Sokrovy asking for a credit line... something she, admittedly, learned the hard way. Naturally, there had been no repercussions for someone such as herself, but knowing what she knew now about these demons - the humans in her dream visitation being enslaved for wrong doings - she felt a little more mindful of the trouble she could get in to. For now she could only pick one room. Perhaps forever it would be that way, but that didn't mean others couldn't inspect the other rooms. Like her brave, loyal, and understanding officers. And who said only one person had to visit the same room? A silly fantasy flashed into her mind - a line of soldiers visiting the ax demon's room - and all marching out in shining armor with magical swords.

Indeed, she was fascinated with the ax demon room, even as it made her shiver slightly. A place of beheadings. Now that was some nasty business, but conquest and war was nasty business, too. The room full of coins and the jewels had stolen her breath for a minute. Such beauty and wealth! Yet, for the moment, she needed not the money as much as she wished to lay upon the shining jewels, placing them upon her clothes and using them to buy entire cities up. The mirror room... she so dearly wanted to go inside just to see herself in all of them, to study her reflection, the way it moved and how she looked. She almost did it. And last, the room with salacious imagery. She was, of course, a delightfully chaste and pure maiden princess who would never once sully herself, or ever had, before a proper marriage. Who could think otherwise? Well, some she knew very well, but they were paid handsomely or threatened to keep their stupid mouths shut.

In the end, she had no shame or hesitation as she stared back at the third chamber. The nude, gilded idol. Perfection of the physical body. Certainly, perfection was something she knew she was close to, but it was likely an eternal journey. Each step brought one closer and closer to it, better than before, but never quite reaching the pinnacle. Perhaps she would be the first to reach the summit of beatific, physical perfection. With a nod to a solemn Lieutenant Williams and the sailors around him - and the arrival of the ship's officers - she ducked into the room and finally immersed herself in the glory of this idol. She inspected every engraving, every floor tile, even the ceiling, before the sensations struck her. She had forgotten all about that in her rush to enter. Startled, but determined, she pressed on with a flushed face. She noted the decaying mat before the idol and vaguely recalled something about prayer mats in some book she read. Kortova approached it, tapped at it with her foot just to be sure, before getting down on her knees and gazing up at the statue.
 
"Alright, Commander, you look like you have something to tell me."
Click to expand...

"Indeed, Commodore." said Warren, as he stepped up. He watched Meinhardt's petty officer walk away, before continuing. "...Last night, my scouts found a massive blue aetherite stone atop an elaborately carved stone out in the sand dunes on the beach. It was covered in writing unlike we've seen yet...and when I touched the stone, I had some sort of vision or something."

"I saw the winged mermaid that we keep seeing everywhere, and apparently her name is Merphrau. She was the goddess of the oceans here once, and stated that she meant me no harm." continued Warren, going on to explain the vision he had on the beach in its entirety. Merphrau being gone, along with Wulfera whom was trapped in 'the Ashes', and trying to prevent Wulfera from escaping. Eventually, he finished. "She did something to me in the vision. I think she gave me some sort of gift, but I felt really warm inside...then when the vision ended, the blue aetherite was on fire. Blue flames that apparently only I could see as the two scouts with me saw nothing unusual about it. I ordered them to take pictures of the carvings and stone, and returned to my tent. Afterwards, I managed to get some sleep. And this is where something else occurred."

"During the night, I dreamed that I was back home in Alleghenia, at a train station. Sipping coffee, and waiting on the train. There was a man next to me, whom spoke to me for a moment...then he just suddenly stepped off the platform in front of an oncoming train and killed himself." Warren continued on, explaining the details of the dream to the Commodore as best he could. Alleghenia rotting, the skull-faced people, the black aetherite necklace, the small crystal that he could use to see their original faces, 'finishing his work'.

Once Warren finished, he sighed. "I don't know what any of this means. And so far, I haven't noticed any changes or mutations to speak of. I don't know what Merphrau did to me, and I don't know what those...skull-faced people wanted me to do and how it relates to Merphrau."
 
All morning, as the skies periodically let loose a soft drizzle of rain, Captain Walkenhorst, the Commodore's first mate aboard the Nixe, paced the deck of the light cruiser with restlessness. It was his job to retain the ship while the Commodore and his researchers were off exploring the islands, and he knew it would be before they had ever departed San Marino. Still, his relative anonymity irked him somewhat as he felt equally qualified to lead a landing party as any of the captains from the other vessels. Yet, as of late, he was serving as nothing more than the fleet's switchboard operator, receiving and sending telegrams. A petty officer approached with a salute. [Great, another one,] he found himself thinking.

"[Sir, incoming message from the Archangel,]" the young man said as he handed over the slip.

Walkenhorst read it quickly and nodded. Having been at the heart of communications thus far, he knew that it was Kuromaki that had requested the information and not Meinhardt, and so he decided it was prudent to simply bypass the Commodore in order to avoid bothering him in the midst of his adventuring. "[I see. Send word to the Terror immediately. Take this message down:]"

Walkenhorst to Kuromaki STOP
Name Ishra reported by Sokrovians STOP
Significance unknown STOP
Travel Island VI advised FULL STOP​

The Terror, of course, would retain this message, as Kuromaki had not yet returned with Flint's team from the ziggurat. Inside the decrepit tomb, Kuromaki waited somewhat impatiently at the split in the paths, and, after some time, decided that she would explore the last remaining section of the pyramid which lay unseen- the right side fork near the entrance. It would be risky, as her Alamannian team lacked the sort of sappers the Terror had brought along the previous day, but seeing as those men had been hospitalized due to their lack of success, it seemed rather futile to seek out experts to explore ahead anyway. They would simply have to do their best.

The team traveled back down the corridors and into the first major chamber where the other fork lay. Kuromaki handed off the scroll to one of the researchers and instructed him to take it out of the pyramid and return it to the Terror. Next, she told the others to search the hall ahead and ensure that it was safe. After some time, they discovered a pressure plate hidden in the floor and marked it with chalk. At that same moment, there was a thunderous boom that echoed from somewhere far above them. The whole party froze, terrified that they had triggered something after all, but nothing else occurred. They entered the next chamber.

The room was not heavily decorated and smelled strongly of mold, although there were many carvings in the floor tiles below them that gave it a ceremonial appearance. Kuromaki immediately recognized Halja's cross and scowled at it. As they shined their flashlights around, they could see hundreds of jars, along with mundane objects and a few pieces of jewelry here and there, mainly made of badly corroded copper and stone beads. In the middle of the room there was a stone altar that gave them an impression of the room's purpose: it seemed that this was where the mummies they had encountered had been embalmed. "[Look around for black aetherine,]" Kuromaki instructed. "[And let's hope there's no undead in this room, shall we?]"

After a few minutes of searching, and a few false alarms, the team was alerted to a skittering sound. "[Vermin, maybe?]" Kuromaki theorized. At that moment, one of the pots fell over sideways and a massive rat, the size of a small dog, came rushing out. Several others soon appeared, either from within pots or from recesses in the walls, previously unnoticed. They all swarmed at the team's legs, and they quickly set to work kicking and stumbling away toward the exit of the room, shouting in dismay!

---​

Above them, minutes earlier, the boom they had heard was, of course, the dynamite planted by Flint's team to blow open the trap door which had closed on their ladder. In the minutes it took for the explosive to be prepared, the waters continued to rise in the chamber. For a short while Flint and his three comrades were safe as they used the raised sarcophagus as an island above the murky waters, but soon, the level had risen to the point that the large, eel-like creature could reach them again. With their flashlights in one hand and their guns in the other, the men tracked the shining fins in the water each time they approached and unloaded a shot or two on the monstrous creature.

For what seemed like an eternity, they continued their routine as the water once again rose over their ankles, shins, and then their knees. The creature leaped out of the water several times, catching the sailors once or twice with its fins as it passed and cutting them, but despite its efforts it wasn't able to bite them. They continued this loop of tracking, shooting, missing, and dodging until they heard a cry from above: "Cover your ears!"

A moment later, there was a deafening boom as a shower of debris and dust came pouring into the room. The fish seemed stunned by this, swimming to the far corner of the pool and staying there for a time, while Flint and his men frantically reloaded their guns. By the time the creature approached again, two things had happened: first, the water level had ceased rising as whatever reservoir it had been draining from had apparently been exhausted, and second, the longer ladder Flint had requested had dropped through the hole, hitting the water with a splash. As it would happen, the crew above had simply retrieved the first ladder, extended it using a rope with knots tied into it, and then dropped it back through once the bomb had done its work. Rourke handed his gun off to another sailor to keep it dry before deciding to be the hero of the moment, leaping into the water so that he could retrieve the dangling end of the rope ladder.

The fish charged again, but after a fresh volley of shots, it was scared away, allowing Rourke to pull the rope back toward the raised sarcophagus. There was nothing to tie the rope to, and so the men simply took hold of it together before pushing away from the sarcophagus again, gliding through the water until they were centered under the tunnel. "Let's go, climb!" Rourke called out frantically, and Flint was the first out of the water. Rourke followed, and soon after, the two remaining explorers. The eel circled menacingly under their rope, but soon it was behind them as they reached the ladder portion of their escape route and easily climbed the remainder of the distance. By the time they reached the garden again, they were so exhausted that they wanted to vomit, but all four were now safe, and had gained valuable insight as to what was hidden within the lower chamber.

---
​
Having planned extremely carefully, Dobbs and his crew were able to extract a total of 111 books from the library building. There were around a dozen more, but time had reduced them to crumbling wastes filled with mold, and it was determined that removing them from the library would simply destroy them completely. Some of the recovered books were quite small, nothing more than detailed pamphlets which contained technical diagrams, perhaps tutorials for construction or scientific purposes. Others were larger and contained what appeared to be dialogue. Immediately, the researchers identified punctuation within the script which functioned similar to quotation marks. Although they wanted to continue their dive, it was apparent that much more could be accomplished in the clean and well-lit rooms of the Prophet.

---
​
Having reached the mysterious ceremonial chambers, Kortova was overwhelmed with excitement as she contemplated the possibilities. If Ishra had already granted her such a fascinating ability, what might these other demons bestow on her? She didn't want to be reckless, however, and decided that she would enter only a single chamber, and, having weighed her options, decided to enter that of the sexual idol. Stepping inside, she looked around at all of the engravings, entranced by the sheer excess of the acts they depicted, until she heard the whisper just as the vanguards did. It was like a lightning bolt shooting down from her stomach that made her quietly gasp and blush. The officers outside knew of the room's effect and turned slightly, keeping the captain in their peripheral vision, but nearly averting their eyes.

Kortova, now reminded that this was a place of ritual importance, looked to her feet at the cloth mat and decided that it must have been placed there as a pad on which to pray, and so she got on her knees. But what could she even say, and to whom would she address it to? She didn't know the name of the gorgeous demon depicted in the idol. Her heart began to beat faster as she considered all the ways she might begin. Finally, a thought came to her out of the blue, which she whispered aloud: "I am Anastasia Kortova, from the faraway land of Sokrovy." She blinked, fixated on the gilded features of the idol. "And... and... I've come for your blessing," she continued.

The doors to the chamber closed shut behind her, surprising and alarming the officers while leaving her totally isolated. It was almost fully dark in the room, until tiny, candle-like flames emerged from hidden ports in the wall, creating a very intimate atmosphere. The whispering of the chamber returned, and Kortova felt another surge of sensations which caused her to shudder, her hands slipping off her knees and onto the floor mat. This time, the whispers didn't stop, and while on one hand they felt strangely pleasurable, on the other they felt wicked and invasive. It became more and more intense; the Grand Captain broke into a sweat and buckled, feeling as if her body were suddenly far heavier than it had been, and let out a combination of a scream and a moan that could be heard in the chamber outside. It was overwhelming, great and terrible at the same time.

This went on for several minutes, intensifying more and more until the Grand Captain's mind was totally awash in twisted thoughts, unable to think of escape or any action to rescue herself. The fear subsided, leaving nothing but an intoxicated bliss and an obliteration of all concept of self. It wasn't long before Kortova had forgotten what was even happening, or how long she had been locked in the spell of this demon's alluring gaze. She wanted to do things that would have turned her stomach before, and she wanted things done to her- everything she could imagine, and some she had never considered before.

And all at once, it was over. She was all alone in a silent and dark chamber, listening to her own rapid breaths as she lay on her knees and elbows before the idol. She felt utterly violated. Before she could fully pick herself back up, the door behind her opened to reveal that the team outside had been prying at it the entire time, and they now stumbled backwards and fell into a heap. Williams rushed in first, helping Kortova up to her feet on wobbling legs, and she fell into his arms as he helped drag her out of the chamber and back into the round antechamber.

She felt a blast of pleasure simply from her first officer's touch, a thrill from being in his arms as if he were her lifelong lover, and as soon as they had cleared the doorway she pushed away from him in shock. The feeling went away as soon as they were no longer touching each other. At the same moment, a female member of the vanguard team approached from behind and set her hand on Kortova's shoulder. "[Are you okay, Grand Captain?]" she tried to ask her, but Kortova again pushed away and separated herself from the group. She had felt the same surge of carnal desire when the young woman had touched her. Uh oh.

Kortova would soon discover that she was attracted to everyone she laid eyes on, and practically melted the moment anyone touched her, intentionally or not. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to kneel in submission to an evil idol of lust. On the other hand, Kortova was loathe to admit it, but she rather enjoyed the sensation... There was no telling whether it would wear off, and she wasn't sure if she even wanted it to.

---
​
Meinhardt listened calmly to the two stories Commander Warren told him, growing more visibly concerned along the way. When Warren finished, the Commodore cleared his throat nervously. "Alright... alright, alright... So, these are the sorts of things I was concerned about when we were setting off, and what I told you all to watch out for. I'm glad you've decided to be honest and share these things, because if I can be so frank as well, I'm afraid that you might not be the only one, but you are the first to admit it. You've been hearing the voice of a god, seeing signs of necromancy in your dreams, and so on, and all of these things were warning signs of madness on previous expeditions. You said you witnessed fire that no one else could see... but I have a hunch, here. I want to see this aetherite you found as well.

"After what I've learned these past few days, I'm beginning to wonder if that madness documented on earlier voyages wasn't madness at all. Perhaps if we can't see the fire, it isn't that you're hallucinating, but rather, it's because your eyes are clearer than ours. Mr. Detlev," he said, turning to his chief researcher, "come with us, please."
 
"Grand Captain....?" Williams asked with some concern again as she stumbled towards the wall and leaned against it, bent double slightly. "F-fine! I'm fine! Just... just need a second to... catch my breath," she said, shivering slightly. Williams noticed this and had someone bring a coat over for her, which she staunchly waved off. What the hell did that statue do to her? Well, she knew very well because she could feel it, but damn it she wanted power not this! She cautiously straightened herself up and glanced over the nearby crew before wincing and looking away again. Oh boy... oh boy... this is bad. It was like the idol wanted to make her supposed chastity even more of a hilarious joke than it already was and it took a good minute to concentrate as the worst of the feelings subsided, lingering only as a dull fire. The crew certainly looked curious as to what was causing this strange behavior in her, and she cleared her throat.

"I am quite alright," she said in a somewhat shaky voice. "I... I had a battle of wits and turned the demon away, it was trying to read my mind or something," she lied, adding, "and physical touch is quite painful so please keep back." You're brilliant, good idea, she thought. The panting, the shaking, her weak voice, her flushed face - they'd think it was from pain, not something else. Clearly they would think her strong, too, for enduring such a thing. The crew simply nodded or scratched their chins, and Williams quickly put them into motion. "Alright, it seems this area is more dangerous than anticipated - no entry to these rooms under any circumstances for now. Keep a unit to monitor and watch and to prevent anyone from risking it," he ordered, everyone obeying him. Kortova's eyes drifted from one sailor to the next, looking each and every one of them over in more detail than she ever had. That blonde woman was rather fetching.... No, no. This is worse than that time I got into the vodka cabinet. Women! How scandalous. Her thoughts did not match her feelings and she continued to watch, one arm against the wall for stability, and the other on her hip as she had no where else to put it.

Williams offered his hand to help her move, which she denied again, and he bowed his head. "Sorry, I forgot you said it was painful. We'll get you back to the ship promptly and I can see about getting you some laudanum for your tea. Can you move?" Hesitantly, she nodded, and took a few steps, her fingers digging into the hem of her jacket. Of course some sort of degenerate sex demon thing would do this to you, she thought. She wanted the power to do this to others, not have it done to her, and she sent a little glare to the chamber. Be thankful I don't send in dynamite and sledgehammers you whore!

It was a slow trek back up to the beach and onto the ship. Kortova still had her reflective glasses on, but she put one hand above her eyes to shield her vision again, as if the sun was still too much. It was done so she didn't have to look at more people than she already had to. Williams being beside her wasn't helping and she couldn't shake him away. The gentle rocking of the rowboat to the Archangel nearly sent her spiraling into another twitch fit, and once on deck she quickly hurried to her cabin. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" She said to Williams as she departed. "I just need to lay down! And, um... yeah!"

Once in her room she collapsed onto her bed and writhed about as the sensations overwhelmed her. She tore off her uniform and crawled under the covers.

---

Lieutenant Williams returned to the bridge and took a seat, resting for the moment. He sent a sailor down to the clinic room to get a small tincture of laudanum for the captain. He knew encountering these demons was too dangerous for her alone. As intriguing as it was, they couldn't be so reckless. The question was how to protect oneself from these situations and he truly had no idea. Asking the commodore seemed most prudent, but that would upset the captain, and he knew it could be suspicious if he sent a telegram. He'd need to ask him off hand in person. Regardless, he reviewed the reports of the chambers again, specifically the relatively sparse one about chamber three, the one the captain had entered. Spontaneous feelings of arousal. That was... a curiosity to say the least. She ended up getting herself in pain by some sort of confrontation and.... He hesitated as he read it over again and then once more just to be sure. Evidently, perhaps it wasn't pain.

He sank into his seat and rubbed his hands against his face. How much was he getting paid for this expedition? Maybe he could argue for a raise when they returned....
 
Flint, Rourke and the two sailors lay on the floor, breathing heavily. One of the sailors rolled over, steadied himself on a root and promptly vomited. The rest of the men cautiously watched over them, two of them checking on Flint and Rourke while two more were on their bellies on the edge of the shaft, shining their flashlights down into the murky water far bellow. "There's a god damn monster in there!" Rourke managed to blurt out suddenly, "And some fucking evil coffin as well!". Flint starred intently at the opposite wall, a myriad of thoughts assailing his mind as he steadied his breathing.
The garden was corrupted, not a serene haven like he had seen it in his dream. The sarcophagus. It rested deep within the ziggurat, it's prisoner spreading whatever foul influence it could by leaking abyssal liquid into the water below. Did the Altanians try to imprison that dark fiend? Or was it hidden away so that it could perpetuate it's horrid purpose undisturbed from righteous souls that would seek to end it? The answer seemed almost clairvoyant to Flint.

"We need to destroy it." Flint said with cold determination as he steadied himself from the ground. Rourke and the sailor looked at their captain with disbelief. Had the old man finally gone over the edge? "What ever hides withing that wretched tomb is an affront to humanity. You saw the murals and the mummies. If the people of this city had to stoop so low as to shackle death itself to their twisted servitude, then we have come to end it. Damn any one on this expedition who says otherwise. Death should bow to no man,"

He reached his hand out to a nearby sailor, motioning to him to hand over his trench gun. Taking the gun into his hand, he looked over his men. They seemed hesitant to obey orders, but he could see in their eyes that there were stalwart soldiers behind those veils of cowardice. They had not spotted any black mass in the chamber, and the canary still fluttered wildly about in the cage, which indicated that the air was safe to breath. Then Rourke got up, silently nodding to his captain. The sailor that had accompanied them also rose, nodding as well despite the obvious fear that adorned his face. The final one did not, as he had fainted from exhaustion. Eventually, 4 additional men had agreed to follow Flint back into the chamber. "Mister Bowman, how many dynamites do we have left?" Flint inquired. Bowman informed him that they had brought 8 sticks of dynamite, which meant they had 6 left.

So the plan was set into motion. They would first drop a stick of dynamite into the chamber, stunning the creature that guarded the waters. Then, one of the fresh volunteers would climb down the rope ladder and try to dispatch it using another dynamite and a the trench gun. Once the creature was dead, they would all descend into the chamber and open the sarcophagus to destroy what lay entombed in it.
 
Warren nodded. "Alright, one of the scouts that found it is still at our beach camp. I'll have him lead us to the stone." he replied, before turning about and moving back towards the Alleghenian base camp. It was a short walk away from the Commodore's own camp, just down the beach to where a set of traditional olive drab military tents were pined into the sand. His scout was promptly located, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee and what appeared to be a biscuit from a ration. After a brief conversation, the scout set aside his tiny meal and grabbed his carbine. Then began their trek along the water on the other side of the Alleghenian camp.

Warren shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, glancing out over the seas surrounding the island. And soon enough, he discovered that he had something in his pocket. Small, spherical shaped. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he drew it out, and noticed it was the crystal from his dream. It had apparently manifested itself in the real world, but in his pocket instead of in plain view. He paused for a brief moment, turning to Meinhardt. "...This...This is the crystal from my dream. The one that allowed me to see the skull-faced people as they were before their deaths." he said, showing the Commodore the golf ball sized crystal.

Afterwards, they continued on till they arrived at the dune from the night before. "Here it is, sir." said the scout, motioning to the dune with his rifle as he looked back to Warren, Meinhardt, and Detlev. "Thank you, Monroe. Wait here till we're finished." responded Warren, walking past the scout. "Aye, sir." was his response.
 
This is what Dos Santos lived for, research and discovery. The samples she got from the flower were in perfect condition. But she knew that the lifespan of the defensive liquid she had collected wouldn't live for long. It's properties amazed her. She began to store the other parts of the flower in a refrigerated room for further study, but for now she concentrated her research on the defensive liquid. She began to prepare her lab until she dropped her pen on the ground by mistake. When she crouched to grab it she looked at her hand, having taken her gloves off to wash them. She looked at her mutated hand for a while, and remembered that both her and Kuromaki had to find a cure or a way to stop the mutation to spread.

After finishing preparing her equipment to study the liquid, she looked at the small box where the Stone of Halja was and thought on it for a few minutes. "...What can I do for you to lift this from us? I... look, I am already a freak in this ship, I don't want them to continue thinking I'm a... a creature instead of a human being. Please, goddess Halja... I don't know if this was a curse or a blessing from you, but remove it from us." She looked at the box for a few minutes, almost expecting it to open wide and show that beautiful mermaid she met that night. But nothing happened. "...Why am I talking to a box? Am I growing insane? Why am I even talking to myself..." She let out a frustrated sigh before sitting down, rubbing her fingers on her temples. It was time to get back to work.

Meanwhile...

Alvarado and his men rushed to get back up, as they stared at that mysterious creature. A living and moving ooze had just attacked them, and used its tentacles to push them away. It was a miracle none of the men were caught by such a horrible creature. "Dios mio!" shouted one of the sailors, while moving his lamp all around the cave. Looking for other slimes. Alvarado quickly calmed his men. "Calm down already, and shoot it!" Every single armed man and woman in the crew got in position, and began to fire a barrage of bullets at the slime creature
 
With their treasure trove of written knowledge collected and secured in the chests and crates outside, Dobbs quickly gave the order to start bringing them towards the shore ever so carefully one by one, but also gave the command to place them well away from the waters at the moment as to prevent any chance of spoiling them prior to transporting them onto the vessel. And so the sailors, along with the researchers, began to pick up crates and chests in teams of two and slowly began their progress. There were about twelve of these chests and crates that had been used and each of them would supposedly protect them from the elements outside of the library until they were to be unloaded and examined by the research team aboard the Prophet, but of course both Dobbs and especially Lonstray decided to take extra precautions as well to ensure the safety of these materials.

As their transport work began, Dobbs decided to have a bit of quiet and turned to a few of the sailors that were with him. "I wish to be alone within the main pavilion. I won't be long." he stated before walking off, leaving the sailors to their work. As he re-entered the main structure that the group had discovered previously, Dobbs made his way over to the statue of Astrius and stared at it once more. Now that he was alone, he wanted to speak his mind in peace. "...we found a library here, filled with the knowledge of your people it seems." Dobbs began to speak in a soft tone. "I'm not sure if you wanted us to find this or not, but... thank you."

A silence filled the room after he finished speaking, leaving Dobbs staring at the statue once more. Only this time, Dobbs scoffed at himself and couldn't quite believe that he was now speaking to inanimate objects. Perhaps Meinhardt was right about such things, and that madness was starting to creep into his mind. He then turned to leave so that he could rejoin the effort to move the books towards the base camp that they had established.
 
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