Like the Sicilian Expedition of ancient Terra, we sailed to almost certain catastrophe, to ground we only marginally knew into what could be a trap. Luckily the water was not too deep for Lucius, at least the majority of the time. He was given a pair of ropes to tug on if he was in need of speed or more likely, we were in need of stopping. Garm rode at the head of our skiff, with myself and Emmaline aboard behind him, in that order. He was a hale man, but rough living and the constant struggle against his now-distant kin had made him look far more aged than his thirty years might normally tell you. 

We were given a bit of supplies. What fresh water they could grant us refilled our canteens and containers, and we were gifted small fruits wrapped in leaves with the vague shape of plantains, with coarse outer skin that coated a bitter but filling meal. Before departure, our small skiffs have been sprayed with a strange musk that felt almost viscous to one's senses, but we were told it kept the bugs away and it proved a relatively truthful claim. 

"Describe the landing we seek." I told Garm, who looked at me with a muted fear. 

"It's an island twice the size of the one I live upon, with an area for docking on the far side across from our approach. Ever since they have been given the boats without paddles they have cleared the waters around the island of reeds and the small trees, where the ganda lizards lay their eggs this season." Garm said, sounding reservedly forlorn at what was likely a terrible tragedy to his people. 

"What manner of beasts does Nagrip have in his employ?" I implored, not wanting him to dwell on the lost traditions just yet. 

"Beasts that hurt the eye to see. I could not describe them if I tried." Garm said, and he shuddered at the thought. I felt a cold chill run down my spine, and my eyes dropped to my blessed power sword, the hilt protruding from our packs beneath my legs.