Zirul nods his head slowly, musing out loud. "Bold, fearless, and with the brains to pull together the impossible. We're heading for the history books. No doubt about it."
"Indeed", the Master of Gales says. "But it's not quite so simple. [b]"The pirates of the Shackles bend the knee to no one and they would likely laugh at anyone calling himself the Hurricane King with the Hurricane Crown."
"That means Bonefist has to die", Arronax finishes.
Zirul bows his head, wiping off the little bit of blood he still sees on his armor, scraping it away with a fingernail. "That sounds like quite the undertaking. Has anyone ever tried it before?"
"They have", Arronax replies. "The remains weren't pretty."
Zirul grimaces briefly. "Sounds like a blood bath, in a situation that was doomed from the start."
"Well we do got Harrigan's plans for sneaking into Fort Hazard."
Bjorkus's eyes go wide.
"That's right. We'd need a distraction but we could get right in under Bonefist's nose. It'd save us the trouble of fighting our way through the whole damned keep."
The alchemist grins. "Well, we do have a bit of a fleet ourselves. If they expect a naval assault...well, it wouldn't be too hard to get right in under his nose. And invisibility is a growing specialty of mine."
"Then it's settled!", Chubwart shouts. "Chubwart's honorary gobgobs will sneaks in while Chubwart and his mighty fleet fight on the water!"
"The Lady Luck and I would be honored to fight alongside you once again", Tessa says with a grin.
"I suggest you make whatever final preparations you need and quickly. Bonefists has ears everywhere and the longer you take, the more of his forces he'll be able to bring home to defend him", the Master of Gales warns.
Zirul strokes his chin. "I need to buy a few things, if we have time. I think I can get us some potions that'll save us a good deal of time. I also think I need to take Mr. Iron Fists here to get outfitted with a jacket, for just such an occasion."
"I got some stuff to buy too."
With a pop, Opal teleports the party to Quent. The city is abuzz with news of Harrigan's exposure as a traitor and deserved death. It seems, for now, none know how close they came to being conquered by Cheliax.
Kal asks Opal to teleport him to the Isle for a visit with Sal. When he gets there, he hugs the older man and smiles. "How've you been, Sal? Thought I'd come see you before we finish taking over the Shackles." The druid chuckles and shakes his head slightly at some inner thought.
Sal returns the young druid’s affection.
”Glad to see you’re still in one piece boy”, the older fisherman says. ”I heard there was a nasty fight with some big pirate turned traitor. I was worried you might’a been part of that.”
The old man gestures to a basket of fish caught over the past couple hours.
”You been eating alright? You look different.”
Kal nods. "I was in on that one. He was the one who started me on this path... and it was good to pay him back for... everything."
Selecting a few fresh fish from the basket, the young man seats himself near the older and pauses to answer. "Alright, but nothing as good as your catches. Different how?"
”It’s not bad”, the old man says as he casts his line back into the sea. ”Just different. You got the look of a man that’s just finished seeing the world for the first time and is ready to take his place in it. I suppose piratin’ will do that to you… “
Sal rubs his aching bum leg for a moment.
”So where you heading next? It seems you come and go so quickly these days.”
"Off to depose Bonefist... though it's not common knowledge yet." Kal knows that he doesn't need to caution Sal to silence. He takes another bite of fish, chewing contentedly.
Sal’s eyes go wide.
”Bonefist? You and your friends are gunna tangle with the Hurricane King himself?” the old fisherman says in disbelief.
Seeing the young druid’s conviction, Sal shakes his head sadly.
”You sure you wanna do this? Leave Bonefist to that the tian and the Lady’s bull of a husband. The Hurricane King is a vicious killer, even as far as pirates go.”
"Well... I'm certainly open to your advice, but it needs to be done and we're the only ones who've got the support to not turn the Shackles into a massive civil war afterward. I'll come back... but if you know anything that might help, I'd be grateful."
"I don't have much advice in the ways of pirate wars", the old man says with a sad shake of his head. "But I do have something for you."
"When I first met you, you were going for a swim around the Isle. Do you think you could drag an old man along with you? There's a spot near the rocks on the northern end of the isle I need to get to."
"'Course I can; I'd love to take you, and the water's great. When would you like to go?"
Without needing a second invitation, Sal slips into the water. It appears his crippled limb is little hindrance for the old fisherman once he's in the water. The old man grins and waves Kal forward.
"Well come on then, I'm not getting any younger!"
Kal’s careful route keeps the old fisherman from getting banged up too badly and soon the pair arrive on the northern end of the island. Climbing up onto the shore, Sal struggles to catch his breath.
”I’m too old for swimming like that”, he says with a wan smile and a gasp.
”Over there”, Sal adds after a moment while pointing near a rocky outcropping. ”Swim to the bottom there. You’ll find a blue stone the size of a fist with a chain wrapped around it. Fish it up and bring it here.”
Kal looks curiously at the old man, but complies.
Diving once again, Kal finds the blue stone nearly twenty feet below the waterline. Wrapped around it is a thin silver chain.
”This was our lucky rock”, the old man explains as he undoes the chain wrapped around the blue stone. ”I tossed it into the sea when I was injured and my wife and girl passed away.”
Sal tucks the chain into a pocket in his shirt and offers the stone to Kal.
”I want you to have it. I don’t think it quite works for me anymore.”
Kal looks down at the rock, studying the various shades of blue, so similar to the ocean's depths. "I'm sorry," he offers quietly. He stares at the rock in silence for some time before continuing. "I'm going to come back, and I'm going to find a way to heal your leg. I don't know how... but I will."
The druid looks up then and places the stone in his pocket, his face a mixture of gratitude and resolve.
When he's not busy coordinating the sale of goods looted during the battle at sea or spinning tales in one of Quent's taverns or the House of Stolen Kisses, Bjorkus is busy tending his harem. Sandra, Tilly, Aretta, Alhazrah, a dozen others as the days go by, Bjorkus ruts like a bull ready to die.
We're gunna take on the Hurricane King, he muses to himself. We really are legends. I’ve come a long way since that b*~$$ Osprey.
The last night before the party's departure for Port Peril, Bjorkus has Opal take him to Tidewater Rock to spend one last night with his wife. Bjorkus doesn’t try to explain and Agasta doesn’t try to ask, as the potential finality of their union is obvious. The Lady of Tidewater Rock lacks the strength to see her husband off when Opal arrives the next day to retrieve the minotaur.
Zirul spends the time acquiring many components and getting potions gathered, not explaining to anyone what he needs them for. He simply exorcises the unspoken rule among those knowledgeable in alchemy and potions: don't ask and you can never be connected.
He takes time to visit an enchanter, giving his belt the element of vitality, and lastly, he finds a small shrine to Besmara to pray, an idea almost foreign to the man. There is only so much time left in the world, and if they are to lead such a wild area of the world...only the Banshee Queen could know the future.
After all has been collected and done, he will return to the ship.
Luthor, after spending his riches on his equipment, spends his days just training himself. He is seen boxing with shadows, literally most days. In his mind he sees Harrigan, Bonefist, and others who have crossed his path. His fists were quick like lightning, but hard as rock or iron. Focused on the task ahead.
Luthor, your preparation has left you confident and psyched. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for – the day your legend is truly born!
***
Besmara truly is cruel as Zirul's devotion, however momentary, is only answered with silence.
Finally the fated day arrives and the party unites to be whisked away by Opal’s spell to Port Peril.
Arriving with that familiar pop, the party is on a surprisingly empty street of the usually bustling port city. In the distance the party’s allied fleet led by the heroic Captain Chubwart piloting the Raging Storm clashes with Port Peril (and the Hurricane King’s) defenders. It appears most are holed up in their homes (or maybe their favorite tavern) while they wait out the warfare occurring on the sea outside their doorsteps.
Security is noticeably absent and the group has little trouble reaching the warehouse that, according to Harrigan’s notes, leads to a series of underground caverns eventually leading to the heart of Bonefist’s fortress.
Do I get to experiment on Bonefist? We could make him into a puppet. Or...ooh! We could turn him into a small lizard, cover him in chum, and feed him to the sharks!
"Let's hope he didn't get wind of this entrance... we'd better keep our eyes and ears open."
As the group enters the warehouse, Kal holds up one hand and shifts into a fire elemental, accompanying the change with his usual routine of dropping his equipment and picking it back up in his new form. The exception is Aiger's Kiss, which he holds in his hand for the transformation.
"I don't like this. It's too quiet." Luthor will put up on himself, Opal, and Bjorkus for the next 100 minutes and a on Opal for 10 hours. He then opens the door to the warehouse and walks in.
Opal nods.
”Bonefist has stayed in power for a reason. Let’s not forget that.”
She moves among the party enchanting them with protective magic before enchanting herself and taking up the rear.
A vast collection of boxes, crates, barrels , and other containers are stacked throughout this large chamber. Several handcarts are lined up along the south wall. A huge shape with a heavy cloth draped over it rests in the center of the room.
A moment after the party enters the room, the shape jolts to life shedding the cloth to reveal a silvery golem!
With absurd quickness considering its massive form, the golem advances and slams its fists in Luthor and Bjorkus.
Luthor reels from being hit so easily, he focuses his friends on killing the damn thing before throwing a quick hard right.