Sharn was now a distant ember on the horizon, the sun swallowing up the light from the city. Up on the rigging it was quieter, taking on the crew needed had made the ship busy, bustling with sailors taking orders from the Lightning Pilot, they hadn’t even settled on a course yet but the pilots status as escaped outlaw meant they had to time to dawdle in Sharn. Cal preferred the quiet up here, in all that time alone he had found solace in it, lying in darkness listening to the wind as it rolled through the grass, hearing each leaf as it hit the ground. It was bad enough with the four he was to follow, their breathing, shifting and occasional mumble and that was when they were asleep, during waking hours each was a whirlwind of noise, joking, laughing, boasting and fighting, add the crew on top of this and it was all too much. Here in the rigging though the sounds below were muted somewhat, quiet enough for him to hear her song, see the campfire burning, the smell of her in the air, the memory of better days...
Word had spread of a blindness plague, much like the one that affected himself, it proceeded a massive attack by undead from the sewers, likely linked, Cal felt a pang of guilt, perhaps they could have stopped it somehow, but the voice was quieted by reason. Enough creatures to cause significant issue in the city would have surely overwhelmed we six, and why would the authorities listen to strangers telling tall tales of undead armies in the sewers. This is why Cal hated cities, the problems were too big, even with Maybell’s revenge on Despay and the death of Goldhand new organisations had tried to fill the power vacuum left by the Aurum’s demise.
Still these smaller groups still had to worry however, Jirke had ascended to a folk hero among the Warforged and more than one may well have linked the deaths of the Aurum’s heads to him too, cleansing the wicked, maybe something good had come from all this.
The cowards of Lyrandar’s expulsion of Jirke still tasted bitter in Cal’s mouth, if even one of the great houses stood up, made a stand for what was right they could change the world for the better. Instead they cowered, shielded by their wealth and power, content to let the world burn as long as it didn’t spread to their perfect little enclaves. One of their number makes a stand, says something must be done and instead of supporting him, backing his claim that the man was a killer brought to justice they declare he must be hanged, they are truly unworthy of the titles they bestow upon themselves.
Up in the rigging Cal whispers a prayer to Dol Arrah in the hope Maybell finds the guidance she needs to be better. He had found Eruleon and been turned to the path, he had hoped he would have time to teach her, show her she could use her skills for something greater. Despay’s death was a good start, but not out of revenge, he had failed her by not being there to teach her that.
Still there were more important matters, the Shard was in their possession now, or more accurately, the possession of a foolish boy who horded it like a trinket, an object that could bring ruination to everything we know! Perhaps the corruption he feared had already taken hold of him, this is what comes of such power Wizard and why in the long term no-one can hold this power. In the short term perhaps they could limit the problem, certainly no-one of arcane talent should be it’s guardian, those who's hubris could see themselves as master of the shard, Elend was still too much of an unknown, that left only one option... Tiny. He didn’t sleep, was certainly a powerful warrior in his own right and likely lacked the arcane knowledge to use the shard, he was the natural choice out of those presented. He had given Auron his word not to destroy it without the council of their “band” but this matter must be discussed.
Cal leapt down, hurling himself into the noise and chaos grabbing one of the younger crew.
“Gather my companions in the aft compartment, we have matters to discuss, make it clear that this is not a request...”
