“It seems like you have plenty of men…or ahhh…lizards to do this yourself,” Emmaline observed as she followed behind Sketti. The bulk of the dwarf made an agreeable battering ram, pushing aside low hanging jungle foliage with ease. She had to pay attention and stick close though, lest a branch snap back into place and hit her. The lizard man whose name, if Emmaline caught it correctly, was something like ‘Sss’tomek’ made an obscure gesture which seemed to pass for a shrug or maybe a shake of the head.

They had agreed to the trade of course, and had been heading north all morning, the ground rising from the lowlands into a series of small hills. As they moved the forest seemed to thin somewhat and the air grew misty and cool. This seemed to slow the half dozen lizards that accompanied them and they blinked their large eyes sleepily.

“We cannnssst not, it issss forbidden by tstekch,” Tomek provided, completely unhelpfully, “we mayssss ss’only guide you toss’it,” he hissed, struggling with both the cold and the language barrier. Emmaline didn’t press it. The lizards were probably their only chance of making it out of here alive and if they wanted to stand on some obscure religious grounds she supposed they were welcome to do so. Still the way the little monster kept glancing at her tattoo made her decidedly uneasy.


They crested a hill and abruptly the sightline opened up over the shallow valley on the reverse side of the hill. A shallow but broad river ran along its center, one of the many they had discovered which had been too shallow to accept the draught of the Hammer. The river bank was cleared for a few hundred yards on either side at some point, though forest growth was beginning to reclaim what must have once been fields. The ruins of a rope bridge led to a small village of similarly derelict huts of decaying bamboo. The only intact building was a stone tower that looked for all the world like every Church tower in every village in the Empire. An odd unhealthy light seemed to shine from its peak, where a bell would have been in a civilized place. All of the lizardman guides threw themselves flat as one and refused to look at it.


Markus grunted and opened his spy glass, an expensive piece of equipment which Emmaline, so bored that even work seemed preferable to idleness, had laid several enchantments. He looked through it and made a sour face, then handed it to Emmaline. The distant village seemed to leap towards her as she put it to her eye and she immediately saw what displeased the pirate. The village was swarming with ghouls. The misshapen brute snapped and tore at each other like rabid dogs. Occasionally one was badly wounded by these blows and his fellows would fall upon him with teeth and claws, rending him apart for meat. Emmaline tried to view the strange light in the bell tower, but the glow hurt her eyes and she had to look away. She panned the glass downwards instead and found a single word in faded text on a decaying sign post.

Crotonenburg.


“It was ssssetled ssssome time ago,” the skink hissed, not lifting his head from the dirt. “Fffoor a time it wassss ignored but then, on a ship came an undying one and he laid a cursssse upon them. Led them into the templesss of the peoplesss, ssstole from ussss. Retrieve what was st’ssstolen and we ssshal aid thee..”