Realm of Monsters - Chapter 678: The Silent Marshes
Chapter 678: The Silent Marshes
After leaving the Dire River and entering the wide expanse of the Ebon Sea, the crew of the Dragon’s Hoard had hoped to break free from the conjured ice storm, but to no avail. It moved with their ship, almost as if following them. Belle suspected that the storm was linked to Lunae and rather, it followed the goddess’ power, never straying too far.
The storm acted as a deterrent to any who would try to follow. Stryg had thought the storm would have dissipated by now. He had taken off the concealment cloak and revealed himself. No doubt Lunae would have spotted him by now. Perhaps she really could not control the storm, but at the very least she could wane it of mana, until eventually, the storm would have unraveled. But no. It continued to rage on, as powerful as it had been that first night.
Stryg’s bright vision allowed him to see past the mist and guide them through the waters. Believing the storm might break if they stayed close to land, Freya kept the Dragon’s Hoard near the coastline. It did not help. Stryg knew the storm wasn’t alive per se, but he had connected to it, and he felt its chaotic impulse to destroy everything within its vicinity, which at the moment, was their ship. Though he could not command it to disperse, he could push its waves, winds, and mist away from the ship, like an invisible bubble.
So for five days, the crew sailed, and for five days, Stryg held back the storm from devouring their ship. He did not sleep for fear the storm would attack. Instead, he sat on the upper deck near the helm, where Gale had brought him a chair to sit.
He had never stayed up so long, though he did not fret. The years had only made him stronger. After his battle with the dragonbane, his chaotic nature had fully awakened, and he felt his body brimming with strength. Yet as the days went by, with nothing but frost-mist in sight, his mind began to wander, and his body grew lethargic.
Breaks were few— to eat and relieve himself, at most. Keeping the storm at bay became harder each day, his focus wavering every hour that went by. Oginum helped; the golden hammer’s light imbued him with just enough strength to get by.
And so it was, on the fifth day, after having sailed from morning until dusk, that the massive blanket of fog faded away and the Dragon’s Hoard sailed through the last traces of conjured ice storm.
The crew shouted in excitement and pointed at the horizon. The sun had already set, night had claimed the skies, but the dark was illuminated by the moon, full save for a sliver.
A land of verdant green, doused by the dark blue hues of the night, spread over the horizon. Stryg blinked the sleepiness from his eyes and lumbered to his feet. “Is that…?”
“The Silent Marshes,” Freya confirmed from the helm.
“How far are we from Murkton?” Stryg asked.
Freya gave a short whistle. “The region is larger than the forests of Vulture Woods and Glimmer Grove combined. And Murkton sits at the heart of the Silent Marshes.”
“You said this is one of the fastest ships you own, right? Surely, it won’t be a problem now that the storm is behind us.”
“It’s not that simple, Stryg. These are wetlands. There are large farmlands here and there, but rivers run through the entire region; most of them are too small for a ship of this size to traverse. We can’t sail directly into Murkton.”
Stryg nodded in understanding. “I didn’t really think we could. What’s the closest you can get us?”
“Well, usually we’d go to one of the docks that connect to the sea. From there, we’d unload whatever cargo we have onto smaller ships, and take one of those ships down their many rivers. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how feasible that will be.”
“Why not?”
“Stryg,” Gale said, clambering up the stairs. “Your ordeal is over. The storm is gone. Time to get some proper rest.”
“One moment, Freya was about to tell me about our next move,” Stryg said.
Gale narrowed her eyes at the blonde dwarf. “My ward has been awake for five days straight. He needs to sleep.”
Freya held up her hands in innocence. “I agree completely. Please, do not let me stop you.”
“You heard her.” Gale grabbed Stryg’s hand and began pulling him along.
“Wait, just wait a second,” Stryg tried to pull back, but he could hardly put any strength into the motion.
“I will drag you and tie you to your bed if I have to. You are going to sleep,” Gale growled.
“Just let Freya finish her thought. I’m just going to stay up thinking about it, otherwise,” Stryg said.
Gale didn’t believe him, but she knew how hard he had been working the last few days, so she let him go. Crossing her arms, she gestured with her head towards Freya to continue.
“I was just saying that under ordinary circumstances we’d stop by one of the local docks. Grab a smaller ship and be on our way. But the Sylvan frost fleet is massive. I doubt they’ve made anything but a large entrance. Word of their arrival will be on every sailor’s lips from the coast all the way to Murkton. I doubt anyone will be willing to deal with outsiders right now,” Freya said.
“Especially if the Sylvan fleet is hostile,” Gale added.
“Which they no doubt will be.” Stryg shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. Our plan was to walk once we got to the Silent Marshes. We’ll just have to start walking a little sooner than I realized.”
“We could always steal a few boats,” Freya offered.
“Seriously?” Gale cocked an eyebrow.
“What?” Freya said.
“You’re the head of the wealthiest merchant family in the realm and your idea is to steal from a couple of sailors?” Gale asked.
“It’s not like they were going to trade with us anyway. So long as we avoid any of the larger docks where the Sylvan fleet will probably be at, I think we’ll be fine,” Freya said. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll leave a pouch of gold coins at the docks as payment.”
“And if they resist?” Gale asked.
“We kill them,” Stryg yawned.
“That doesn’t seem to bother you very much,” Gale noted.
“Should it?” Stryg rubbed his eyes. Now that the storm had left, he was starting to feel very sleepy.
“They are not our enemy. I see no reason to kill them if we do not have to,” Gale said.
“Oh… I guess that makes sense,” he said.
“Stryg, are you alright?” Gale asked.
“Fine. Just tired. If you’ll excuse me,” Stryg wandered his way down the stairs.
Gale nodded to Freya, then followed after him.
~~~
Stryg awoke to the comfort of a soft blanket and a warm body pressed against him. He opened his eyes and was met with Tauri’s scarlet neck. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her short, dark hair.
There was something deeply soothing about waking up in bed with the woman he loved. Despite everything that had happened in the last few days and what was going to happen, he knew he was surrounded by his tribemates. There was a solace in that, one he hadn’t known in his younger years, and one he would do anything to protect.
“Stryg? Are you awake…?” Tauri whispered.
“So are you,” he mumbled.
She spun around his embrace and met his eyes, so close that their noses were almost brushing. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry.”
“For food or blood?”
“Both.”
“We can take care of that. How is your head?”
Stryg had to think about it for a second. The headaches had become more frequent lately, but for now he felt fine. “I’m alright. You?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one who didn’t sleep for five days straight.”
“I meant mentally.”
“My brother is still in Murkton, which is bad, but I don’t think the Sylvan have attacked yet, which is good. So, I guess I’m okay?”
“We’ll get him out of there, I promise.”
“I know.” She leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
“You’re lying.”
“Oh, what makes you say that?”
“You’re wearing socks.” Stryg brushed her foot with his own. “You never wear socks in bed.”
“I got up to use the privy if you must know,” she kicked his shin playfully. “Also, I chatted with Gale and Beatrix for a bit while they ate breakfast. Then I came back to bed.”
“You skipped breakfast?”
“I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
“Huh. That’s oddly nice.”
“It’s called romantic and it’s what people do. Not that I expect a nocturnal godling to understand,” she teased.
“Funny. And here I was thinking I’d have eaten without you.”
“Of course, you would, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body. Lucky for you, I love you.” She gave him a quick kiss and rolled out of bed. “Come on, let’s go get you some food and blood.” She ripped the blanket off him.
“Were you always this nice?” Stryg stretched and sat up. He went for the blanket, but she kept it out of reach.
She tossed him the blanket. “Only sometimes. After all, is it so bad I worry about my fiancé after he stayed up for almost an entire week to fight off a storm just to keep us safe?”
“We both know I’m not mortal. I can handle a little lack of sleep.” He yawned, running the credibility of his words entirely.
“Uh-huh,” she said dryly.
Stryg leaped out of bed and landed on his feet, wiggling his clawed toes on the plush rug sprawled around their bed. A sudden longing for home overcame him. He missed the foliage and soil of Vulture Woods underneath his feet. Pushing away the feeling, he turned to Tauri and looked her up and down. She was already dressed in a loose white tunic and a pair of form-fitting black leather pants.
Drinking in the sight of the woman he loved, he appreciated the moment of silence. His eyes eventually wandered over to her wide hips and voluptuous bottom, when Tauri caught him. “You’re staring,” she said with feigned annoyance.
“Am I…?” He mumbled distractedly.
She sauntered over, making sure to push out her hips with every step. “We can play later. Gale says we’ll be at a dock soon. You’ll need your strength. You need to eat.”
“Where are we exactly?” Stryg glanced out the small porthole in their room. They were sailing past small patches of green not too far from their ship.
“On one of the largest rivers near the marshes’ coast. It’s nothing compared to the Dire River, but it’s large enough to carry the Dragon’s Hoard. Now come on, breakfast is getting cold.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think it’s quite warm.” Stryg slipped behind Tauri, pulled her into his arms, and brushed his teeth over her neck. His canines could hardly be called fangs by any vampire’s standards, but they were sharper and harder than any vampire’s.
Tauri smirked and leaned into him, tilting her head away for better access to her neck. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re more vampire, drow,” she brushed his pointy ear, “or goblin.”
“Goblin,” he said without hesitation and bit her neck. It wasn’t the two thin yet sharp fangs of a vampire, rather it was all his teeth sinking into her soft flesh, every single one as sharp as a knife. It was messy; Tauri would need a new shirt.
She winced, then sighed, sinking into his embrace. “Are you sure about that, mister blood-drinker?”
“Gods drink blood as well.”
“My point exactly. Maybe you’re none of those things. Maybe you’re something else entirely.”
“…Maybe.”
