The others return. They say the clues in Gant’s journal leads to Zakhara, and that the only reasonable way to get there is by sea. To do this, we must go to Baldur’s Gate and find a captain by the name of Edward Teach. Guy recommends him. I suppose that will do. We ready our horses and head north. Our journey is brief, interrupted only by our stop in Beregost. Ragnor looks well. Rumors of piracy abound, but pirates won’t be much trouble for us.
We arrive at Baldur’s Gate. We split up, hoping to cover more ground. I make my way through the streets towards the docks, but I do not find Teach. I do, however, find Treasa. She is stumbling out of some dilapidated building, a pub by the sounds from inside and the smell of her skin. She looks unwell, and I tell her such. She responds by telling me our new captain is even worse off. I think she thinks that’s reassuring. Does she frequently drink this much? I help her to the inn where we spend the night.
In the morning we return to the docks. Charles has used his company’s wealth to hire a skeleton crew for the ship we will be using, the Kraken’s Whip. Teach seems capable enough. He tells us that it will take a few months for us to reach our destination. That is… regrettable, but necessary. We set off. Charles appears to be enjoying himself. Ryltar and I are not particularly affected. The other half of our group isn’t doing very well. It seems that the constant motion of the boat is causing them nausea. What a pity. I wonder if my training is what allows my body to move with the ship. That’s probably it.
We take a brief stop in Athkatla. Charles goes to the Bulgakov estate to deliver Audra’s letter, and we go with him. Nicolai seems distraught by his daughter’s message and asks us to leave. I ask him how Andreyev is. Nicolai says his son is recovering. I warn against undue optimism, and then return to the Whip with the rest of the group. We soon set off again.
A storm approaches. Teach tells us to get below the deck. After a short while we are thrown off our feet by a sudden movement. Ryltar informs us that the ship has stopped moving. We head up to see what the problem is. The sky is tinted a sickly green, and we appear to be stuck in a morass of seaweed and half-sunken ships. Running towards us on paths of kelp and planks are several men of low moral fiber with weapons drawn. Yan and Grumnil halt their advance entirely with walls of fire and blades. An anomaly appears, suspended in the air above the conjurations. A side effect of their spells, perhaps?
Seeing that they do not need my help, I head after a pirate who had escaped my allies’ spells. Treasa follows me shortly. We work well together, cutting the man down while preventing him from harming the other. The pirates are defeated, but the anomaly in the air is taking form. It is a portal, and it is Razza who steps from it. He doesn’t fall into the whirling, flaming death below him. He just hovers. He explains that he doesn’t seek destruction. His goal is to simply recreate the multiverse as it is, only correcting all the little mistakes. How disappointing. I hope he’s lying. He wants the wardstones. I have no intention of giving them to him. Razza is enraged. He summons some manner of beacon behind us and blasts us all with a wave of energy. I shield myself from it, letting my allies take the brunt of the attack. It may seem harsh, but our best chance of survival lies with me, not them. My belief is confirmed as I watch Razza ignore their attacks.
I reach into my bag and take out one of the wardstones. I’ll only get one chance at this. I concentrate, then take the space between Razza and myself and put it behind me. He is taken off guard by my sudden appearance, and I see my opening. I reach out to touch him with the stone, but my hand stops, running into some invisible barrier. A protective sphere appears around Razza, becoming visible as it fractures and shatters with the stone’s touche. I drop to the ground, or what passes for it. Yan and Ryltar should have an easier time at penetrating Razza’s defenses now.
Except they don’t get the chance. Razza’s beacon lashes out with cords of crackling energy that drag us towards the center. Razza gives us a mocking farewell before we are pulled into the nexus.
We reappear in the countryside. It is actually rather pleasant. An elf driving a cart greets us. Curious, I don’t know the language. None of us do. There is a nearby city, so we approach it. I address a guard with the greeting Gant offered in his second journal. He responds positively. I put my staggering intellect to good use as I manage to divine the name of the city through charades. We are in Venezia. A passerby notices the scene we are creating and pulls us aside. He addresses us in Common, although he calls it something else. He introduces himself as Ezio Auditore and asks where we’re from, suggesting a couple places I’ve never heard us. Upon learning that we aren’t local by any means, he offers to take us to his friend. As we’re about to set off, Ryltar correctly identifies the man as an assassin. Curious that such a man has taken interest in us.