The Ocean Gate [POST HERE FIRST]

It was a cloudless sunny day at The Ocean Gate. The sun blisteringly hot overhead, and the ocean waters calm. Nothing would seem to be amiss until just past mid-day, when the sun hung highest in the sky.

On the horizon, lookouts would be able to spot an unidentifiable cloud that gathered on the horizon, obscuring where sky met ocean. It would continually grow in size, as if approaching until the naked eye was able to identify it. An innumerable amount of seabirds could be seen flying towards the shore.

As the huge flock of birds reached The Ocean Gate, they would simply fly overhead towards land, the sheer number of the birds that flew overhead casting a shade on The Ocean Gate and Port Silverion itself, as well as the surrounding countryside. The mass of sea birds flying over The Ocean Gate would persist for a little over an hour before the flock finally passed.

Such a mass migration of sea birds inland was never seen before, and most certainly not normal.

   Growing concerned with the influx of dead ocean life, the port authorities would hire several fishing boats to go out and retrieve some of the corpses for necropsies. A whaler was tasked with hauling the whale's body back to land where its organs were harvested and preserved to be sent to Isra for further study. Though wasting such a large beast's meat was lamented, the rest of the corpse was chummed and buried in a barren plot outside the city where botanists could study the plant life that grew on the nutrients it would provide.

Just outside the port the squadron would find naught but more dead sea life floating in the waters, although the concentration of the carcasses would thin as they sailed further out to sea.

Meanwhile, any who studied the dead whale or other fish more closely would note the absence of any physical cause of their deaths. No disease would be detected among them, nor any injuries. However, if Isra did in fact bring in anyone with a certain amount of magical aptitude to study the corpses they would be able to detect something more. It seemed the local marine life was afflicted by a blight of magic, toxic to any living creatures.

   Somewhat surprised, the nearby guards would immediately send for one of the watch mages and for the watch commander on duty. Both would arrive within minutes.

   Several more guards would appear with the mage and commander, loaded crossbows at the ready. As the golem had not made any aggressive posturing, the commander and mage would try various means of communication, including verbal and telepathic. The crossbowmen were keeping an eye on the water surrounding the construct, knowing full well their bolts would have little to no effect on its stony body.

Grandma had planned on simply taking a tour of the Ocean Gate, viewing the pair of impressive lighthouses and the massive seawall itself. However, after only a bit of walking around, she noticed a disturbance.

A number of guards along with what appeared to be their commander were peering down at something. Striding over, Grandma moved close enough to see what had gained all of their attention. A stone golem of sorts? It didn’t appear threatening at first glance.

Turning to the commander, Grandma addressed him, showing him her Sun Marshall badge as she did so.

“What seems to be the problem here commander? Why has this golem drawn the attention of so many guards?”

Grandma nods absentmindedly as the guard explained what has happened, her attention mostly on the golem. Golems weren’t anything new, but one claiming to be a dignitary and represent someone or something was highly unusual. It almost sounded like he was claiming to be from a race of golems, but she had never heard of such a thing before. For a brief moment her mind remembered the Immortal she had encountered in the Ancient Ruins, but no, this was most likely something totally unrelated.

“That sounds like a fair course of action, you continue along with it, in the meantime I’ll see if it will speak to me.”

Walking even closer to where the golem was, Grandma leans over the edge of the seawall slightly, addressing the strange little creature.

“You’re a dignitary for your people, yes? I would ask that you speak with me about what you want. If you do so perhaps I can get you in touch with the leaders of this land.”

Grandma silently regarded the golem for a moment. The look on her face was quite neutral and completely unreadable. After a moment of this, she seemed to come to a decision, and waved for the golem to climb up and stand on the sea wall.

“Very well, I shall bring you to the leader of Isra. She is a very busy woman however, therefore you must come with me to the Citadel for this meeting. If this is agreeable, we can proceed immediately.”

As she spoke, the air beside her rippled slightly, opening after a few moments to reveal a portal that led to just outside the Citadel gate.

“If this is not agreeable, then I’m afraid there is nothing that can be done for the time being. The High Lady is much too busy to travel out to a port like this at present.”

Sailing down the coast of the Isranian Sea was a series of longships. These boats were crafted by Varan shipbuilders, that much was certain; such models once carried Varan raiders who plagued the coasts of the Overworld, able to traverse rivers, coasts, and even the deep sea - with impressive grace, speed, and resilience. They allowed the Varan to disappear as quickly as they appeared, carrying with them slaves and loot collected from nearby settlements.

Of course, these navigators were not here to raid; to do such a thing to the Isranians would have been near-suicidal. One might think that they were coming to settle down in Isra, like Aia Heijra and her own warband did so many years ago, but this was also not the case. Each longship was accompanied by a series of other boats carrying cargo and supplies. These men and women came to trade. No doubt they carried furs from Asgeir, which no doubt produced the finest furs in the world - due in no small part because of the cold weather; frigid, snowy climates tended to produce creatures with thick, warm hides, which was highly sought after by the southern-folk, especially the nobles.

The leading ship was a large longship, which the Varan called a Dragon Boat.  Dragon Boats were a marvel of shipbuilding, produced only by the finest craftsmen, with a powerful dragon-head bow used for ramming.  The 'captain' of this Dragon Boat was a tall, cunning man; he seemed skinny, but this was an illusion caused by his height. His hair was styled in an old traditional way, and his piercing blue eyes resonated with the icy blue skies of Asgeir. His tattoos, also, was a light blue color. His name was Leif Havikson, second-born son of Havik, an infamous Varan pirate who plagued the northern shores.

"Ho, lads," he said. "Hand me the horn." One of his men handed him a horn, which he blew into very loudly and in a rhythmic fashion, letting the port know he was a trader. "Let's go," Leif said, waving his hand at the lighthouses. The Varan longships proceeded to approach the entrance of the port.

Each ship was fitted with masts and sails which displayed colors and insignias of notable clans from the lands of Asgeir. On the sides of these ships hung shields, similarly decorated as the sails. Each longship carried a varying amount of warriors, both men and women. They were all armed and fit for battle, but their bloodlust would need to wait while they remained in Isra.

"Be on your best behavior, lads," Leif told them, grinning. As soon as these traders were within range of an official, Leif shouted "hail! My warriors wish to trade with your merchants!" He awaited a reply, while the Varan warriors stood up and eagerly investigated their surroundings - marveling at Port Silverion. They murmured, whispered, and spoke to one another in awe.

There were no slaves aboard this convoy of ships, and so the investigative watchers would find no trace of them, magically or otherwise. They would, however, find that every Varan - be it woman or man - was armed with personal weapons; this was of course customary in Asgeir, and so it shouldn't raise alarm. It was true that raiding and sacking the Free Plains was an enthralling thought to any Varan, but these men under the command of Leif Havikson were not here to cause problems. They merely wished to trade and perhaps set up good relations with the locals so that the next time they arrived they'd be received more warmly, and with more customers.

"Oh, these winds are cold and the waves run high,
The wailing of the sea lady is just a lie,
Meats all old and it tastes like crow,
Won't be long till we grab our gold!

Yo ho, yo ho ho!"

The Varan sailors sang their old sea shanties as they waited, rocking back and forth with wide grins on their faces. Such practices were customary aboard ships so many years ago to pass the time, and they remained popular - despite being outdated. Leif hummed along to the tune, but remained mostly patient.

((The Isran Empire))