“Our quarry is in Shadowspire? I have no idea why in the nine hells you believe that Rirorni, Relan,” Vomarian Fae, captain of the flying ship the Unsinkable III, said standing next to the navigation wheel. He then mocked in a heavy, exaggerated Rirorni accent, “Araminth had a lover. He could be lying for all we know. I hope you know what you were doing paying him a small fortune for that information.”
For the past two weeks since leaving the Rirorni capital of Rithakar, and having to fly around the mountains north of it, his ire was focused straight at My-re. She understood why. He blamed her for selling the mere dragon, Koma to the Great Khan Karameikos. While she did sell Koma, it gave her no pleasure and was the only way to prevent drawing suspicion of their true goal of fining the spy mistress Araminth and leaving the palace in one piece. The transaction also made them quite a bit of gold, but was quickly lost in any debate. Koma was not hers to sell and she overheard him on more than one occasion say, ‘She doesn’t know what she’s doing’. He’s probably right on that point. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was a stupid girl, on a stupid mission, looking for what happened to a stupid girl. She was only supposed to be a translator for Rathir the Rirorni native language, not the de facto leader of this operation, but the gods of the grassland plains had a way of putting her in the spotlight.
“I believe him when he said Araminth’s lover Westwind is in Shadowspire,” My-re said.
“Why?”
“The possibilities were growing thin about finding the fate of Araminth. It’s at least a lead and besides, the Rirorni are a very superstitious people. They believe lying will cause their manhood to fall off.”
Vomarian scoffed.
“Well, if he is lying and his manhood doesn’t fall off, I’ll make sure my axe does it for him,” My-re quipped with a smile. He snorted at her attempt to lighten his mood.
The archmage Havelock emerged from below deck. As the flying ship flew, the wind whipped his already unkempt grey hair, wilder. He approached the Shagornan elf captain and stretched out his hand containing a small vial. “It’s my very own recipe. Three drops in liquid at night and only three drops. Then in no time, you’ll be back to being regular in the next day or-”
Interrupting, the elf took the container and downed its entire contents.
Besides having a condition of a ‘stick-stuck-up-the-butt’ the past two weeks, it seemed that proverbial branch was also causing him to get backed up. Rumor had it he hadn’t had a proper constitution going on a week. My-re understood his discomfort. Being away from the Isle of the Eye, sleeping in a rough, canvas hammock, eating heavily salted food, and drinking grog day-in and day-out, was playing havoc with her morning routine. She wondered if Havelock might have any more of that stuff.
“Forest ahead, sir!” came a call from the crow’s nest.
“Finally,” Vomarian Fae mumbled and then turned to the elven navigator. “Stay clear of the road and avoid any civilians. Look for a place within the timberland to land and hide the ship. We’re still close to the Rirorni Empire, so I’ll take My-re with me into the city in case I need her to translate Rathiri. I want a low profile as we search for this Westwind. We’ll trek the rest of the way on foot through the woodlands into Shadowspire.”
Two hours later…
Vomarian Fae and Havelock emerged from the captain’s quarters and approached My-re standing at the bow of the ship as the Unsinkable III touched down within the forest surrounding Shadowspire. Vomarian had a quickened and lighter gate than previously. From his beaming facial expressions, his mood had seemed to improve too.
“What in the gods name is that smell?!” My-re blurted out as a stench invaded her nostrils.
“That’s hurtful,” Vomarian Fae said in a deflated tone.
“I believe she is referring to my insect repellent,” Havelock said corking a vial containing a slime green liquid. “It’s highly effective, but I do admit the smell could be better.”
“Oh, you’re not putting that foul substance on me,” My-re said holding her nose shut.
Havelock seemed a bit taken back. “I would reconsider as these trees are likely home to the notorious Shadowspire gliding wood ticks.”
“What?”
“They like to drop from the trees and dig their way into your scalp.”
“There just bugs. Why should I care?”
“They are extremely difficult to get out,” Havelock commented. “Fire works best.”
Cursing under her breath, My-re said, “Fine, just don’t put on any more than absolutely-” She paused as Havelock dabbed it at strategic places on her body. “Ewe, how in the nine hells can I feel, smell, and taste this gunk all at the same time?!”
“That’s because it’s being absorbed into your skin my dear. Its effect will last a month and the smell should dissipate in about two weeks.”
“Wait, what?”
* * *
Emerging from the forest the two Lord Protectors had to block the sun's glare from their eyes as they looked at an old, broken wooden sign lying on the ground covered in foliage. Kicking away the undergrowth, in faded letters it read ‘Arena 81’.
“Havelock said Shadowspire was a town never properly named, so it was called Arena 81 for the longest time,” Vomarian Fae said.
“So, where did they come up with Shadowspire?” My-re asked, but noticed the brightness of the sun fade. A great shadow encroached and began to encompass them. Looking up they saw the top of a gigantic structure tower over the forest in the distance.
They followed the main road and around a bend of trees and came upon the entrance of Shadowspire. Massive city walls surrounded the town, which wasn’t surprising with the Rirorni horde as a neighbor. Two towers flanked the walled entrance and guards on top looked down at them. Through a raised iron gate protecting the town, the fronts of numerous buildings were visible within. A massive aqueduct carried water through the city. However, soaring over everything was a colossal tower that was part castle and part fortification. It reached into the heavens and a marvel of ingenuity that even the finest dwarven stonemason would have to nod his respect to. It cast a long shadow over the city as well as into the countryside beyond.
“Well this is impressive,” My-re said to the Shagornan elf, looking upwards. “I guess we now know where Shadowspire gets its name. This look interesting and I wouldn’t mind exploring here a bit.”
“The only thing of interest in this city is tracking down this Westwind and his tale of the fate of Araminth. Everything else is secondary,” Vomarian Fae said regarding the immense keep.
“Fine, where do you want to start the search?”
“Shadowspire’s gladiatorial arena.”