A headache pounded in Adarin’s skull like a relentless drumline. He groaned, flexed his manipulators, and hissed as a screeching wave of feedback tore through him. Why is it always pain?

  He looked around in the darkness of his combat mindspace, only illuminated by the gentle blue light of his system’s readouts and the system’s sickly purple glow, interlaced with the red remnants of the attack he had contained during his last level-up. When I had been infected. He ground his teeth and restored the connections to his body.

  The world came into focus, and the first thing he saw was the orange light of morning washing gently over him through a bank of fog engulfing the ship. Devon was sitting next to him on the deck. I've been out the entire night?

  “You’re awake.”

  Adarin paused, observing the activities of the watchstanders, the ritual circle, and the barrels and crates of cargo—bundles piled out of the holds onto the deck.

  “Yes,” he responded.

  Silence. After a long while, Devon slowly inclined his head, as if carefully considering the answer.

  “Good. I shall inform the Commodore.”

  Without awaiting a reply, the kobold scurried off toward the rear castle of the carrack.

  Adarin shuddered involuntarily. The greenskin wanted to experiment on children. I wonder what the coalskins secret is. He smacked his lips, remembering there was an important thing he needed to talk to Devon about.

  Slowly, fighting through the painful throbbing of his manipulator limbs, he got up and assessed the last evening’s work. In the light of morning, the forest stood like something he had only seen on carbon planets: skeletal beeches, blackened leaves, bark sloughing in slimy strips across the forest floor. Mushrooms had sprouted overnight, their vibrant greens and whites a stark contrast to the devastated alien forest.

  It almost looks like snow has fallen. Black, rotten snow that corrodes everything it touches.

  He took in the activities of the fleet, noted its formation had been changed, and began walking toward the rear castle as he saw the other officers already assembling.

  Can’t be late to my own command meeting. But just as he started walking, they all came back down, herded by Commodore Ashfield. Half a dozen mages were with him.

  Commodore, Duchess, and the others greeted him with respectful bows. Adarin tilted his head and studied Commodore Ashfield.

  “We are not having the command meeting on the aftercastle?”

  The Commodore shook his head. “I ordered Mage-Captain Chambers”—he pointed to his mage adjutant—“to prepare a scrying ritual. You created a lot of visibility in this damnable forest for us, so we might as well make use of it. Assuming, of course, that you like the idea of having a map to plan out your campaigns.”

  Adarin nodded. “A wise idea indeed.”

  They assembled between the mast and the ritual circle on the ship’s front deck. Six mages, including the adjutant, began chanting, and after a few minutes Francesco joined them, taking control of the ritual and guiding it into smooth lines. Gray light began to dance, and soon a flickering projection clearly showing the ship could be seen.

  Adarin looked up and saw the strange rainbow shimmer of the scrying sensor above him. It shot up into the sky, and the image extended.

  The lay of the land was interesting. They were still on the main Dray River that led water out of the hills straight north toward the Great River. The first side river, the Eastnee, joined the Dray where the fleet was currently anchored. It was apparently the biggest—or at least broadest—of the three rivers that formed the Dray, and came in from due east. Following the Dray nearly half a kilometer upwards, two other rivers converged: the Assal from the northeast, and the Mekhin from the northwest.

  Adarin frowned at the peninsula between the second confluence. He noticed a spot where the defoliant ritual had had no effect, and around which the forest was already regrowing—green beech leaves sprouting through the damaged trees. Is that the thing my Groveheart felt? Another druidic place of power…

  The 500-meter-long segment of river between the upper and lower confluence formed a long even peninsula between the Assal and Eastnee. Adarin took note of a large stone structure in the middle of the peninsula, roughly at its center. The Dray’s riverbank clearly held structures indicating there had once been piers and warehouses of a port, including channels that had probably once given access to long gone warehouses, but had now turned into a swampy bog overgrown with willows and collapsed trees.

  A kilometer and a half into the peninsula, a straight line connected the Assal and Eastnee. Inside that boundary, the eerie grid of a ruined city still showed through the fog. Pools of putrid water lay where cellars had collapsed, piles of rubble and stone showed chimneys and foundations of richer houses. The old market squares and streets had only been lightly populated by thinner trees, many of which hadn’t survived the ritual.

  Commodore Ashfield was the first to speak. “Looks like Old Drayrivers will give us an excellent chance.” He pointed along the line furthest from their side. “I’d bet my month’s rum rations this is the old city wall. We’d need to inspect it, but it could be restored. Would secure us the peninsula nice and straight. Wouldn’t need many watchers to give us warning.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Adarin made an agreeable noise.

  Duchess Viola continued, “This stone structure. Can we use that?”

  A frown creased Liora’s face. “I think it is a temple to the Seven.”

  Adarin’s digital avatar creased in annoyance. Oh great. Not more of that. But Liora’s next words surprised him. “As long as we don’t desecrate it permanently and keep the sanctified halls empty, I think the Mother would appreciate it if her children would find shelter in her house while building a new city around her.”

  Adarin assessed the structure more closely. It was square, nearly 250 by 250 meters, with a large fifty-meter-deep building at the back. Two buildings almost like fortress towers sat on the front sides, connected by walls. The inner area was rich with especially large trees that had also resisted the defoliation ritual surprisingly well.

  He looked at Liora. “Could there be any magical surprises in there?”

  Liora began turning toward Francesco, but then deliberately looked back at the map. “Well, I believe the temple might have been warded. That might not be a bad thing,” she ventured.

  Francesco sneered. “Dealing with an old defective ward schema will complicate the process. That is one of the simplest rules of warding. Something any real wizard should know.”

  Liora's eyes flashed and she began turning towards the young man.

  “Francesco,” Adarin said, his tone low. Let’s interrupt this before they get going again.

  The young mage took a deep breath, reassessed, and continued. “But the walls look relatively intact. I guess it’s as good a place as any for establishing a warding platform, especially if we already have some fortifications.”

  Adarin nodded. “Are the enchanters ready?”

  “Yes. They expect to be capable of setting up a platform we can work with within six hours.”

  Devon jumped up and down next to Francesco. “Yes, yes, it’s going to be exciting. I’ve never inscribed enchanted wood.” He took a breath, then continued. “I have some ideas, Adarin, but Francesco refuses to let me experiment. Can you please tell him to—”

  “No,” Adarin said. Then he tilted his head and considered. Never mind any actual payout, for what I want I want the kobold to be as happy as possible. “Francesco, how much time will it take? Not to implement what Devon suggests, but to make later implementation possible?”

  Devon’s dour expression softened into something that could almost pass for satisfaction.

  Francesco stroked his pitiful goatee. “I do believe it’s possible. It should only add a few hours if we leave sections blank for projects our little friend here has in store.”

  He smiled broadly, and the kobold nodded once. No sign of satisfaction could be found on his face.

  Adarin pointed a manipulator at Devon. “After we’re done with this, I need to talk to you.”

  Devon nodded once again, but stayed silent.

  Liora spoke next, pointing to the riverside. “I have an idea. We have the skeletons, but do you remember when we met Adarin? When I raised the wolves?”

  Adarin nodded and hummed in appreciation. “You mean to raise the dead wolves as a patrol force, turning the enemy’s weapon against them?”

  Liora smiled broadly. “Exactly. I’ll only need a few necromancers. Francesco can have all the lesser mages he wants. I only need the most competent ones. That shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

  Ashfield raised an eyebrow at Adarin. Adarin rolled his eyes privately but nodded. “Take the resources you need, but coordinate with the Commodore to set up a patrol force.”

  Duchess Viola cleared her throat. She pointed over the railing at the rotting piles of wolf carcasses. “How exactly do you expect me to sell those monsters to the settlers? They are already on edge, and packs of decaying meat roaming around them might not be very good for morale.”

  Liora glared at the Duchess. “I assume they will appreciate it even less if they get ambushed in the dark of night because we didn't have enough patrols out.” Then she tipped her chin. “Or maybe not because they will be dead?”

  Adarin chuckled privately. She really had a vicious streak when angered.

  Adarin tapped a manipulator three times onto the deck. Best to get this back on rails before it escalates. “We need the patrols, but I believe it's best if they roam further afield, probably at the edge of the defoliated space. Can we rig up an alarm system that allows them to work with minimal supervision over the distance?”

  Devon nodded energetically and took Viola's hand in his claw. She tensed briefly then relaxed. “I will help you with that.”

  Adarin nodded and turned to his senior officer. “Commodore?”

  The Commodore pointed at a stone structure jutting into the Dray, roughly a third of the way between the two confluences. “I’ll establish our beachhead here, unless you have another idea, Commander. This pier looks functional.” He gestured from the beachhead to the temple. “Half a kilometer inland is your temple.” He took a breath and pointed at several map positions. “I will position our ships here, here, and here, and the warships here and here, so we have optimal firing angles to defend against anything incoming. We’ll rotate the ships to unload them, as our pier can probably support at most two vessels. That way we’ll have optimal cover and logistics.”

  Duchess Viola made an appreciative noise and nodded. “That sounds like a good plan, Commodore. I’ve talked to the civilian leaders. Settlers are eager, yet scared.” She turned her full body to Adarin and nodded seriously. “We need successes. If too much goes wrong, I’m afraid morale might break.”

  “Yes,” Adarin said. “But you will make sure that doesn’t happen, won’t you?”

  The Duchess inclined her head with an enigmatic but tense smile. “That is what I’m here for.”

  “Good. Then I leave it to you to coordinate who of the craftsmen, settlers, and skeletons disembarks first.”

  He saw Ashfield tense and added quickly, “Beyond the military necessities.”

  “Any more questions?” He looked around. Everyone shook their heads.

  “Very well. Council dismissed. Get to it. We have a colony to establish. Ashfield, I will personally lead a scouting party inland from your beachhead to the temple in two hours. Francesco, Devon, bring Magus Cooper with you so you can decide on a location for the warding platform as soon as possible. Two hours.”

  As the illusion was dismissed and his officers left, Adarin turned to Devon. “I know you have your workshop on one of the merchantmen. I have a special request. Do you have pen and paper somewhere?”

  Devon nodded. “Follow me.”

  Adarin smiled. Next time, my enemies won’t even see it coming.