Aranmor

Kelgryn sits on the beach looking intently at the orb in his hand. Inside the orb, in a translucent, azure liquid, floats the disembodied finger. The finger, slightly bent inward, swivels due south as the elf moves the sphere across his hand. When he holds it steady, the grotesque appendage uncoils stiffly in the appointed directed, as if to convey the sense of urgency from its lost owner. Kelgryn moves his hair locks behind his right ear. The newly formed ear has reached its normal size but the skin coloring still appears bleached against the Erlini’s olive complexion. Gryk is next to Kelgryn digging for a half buried shell in the sand. The ape suddenly loses interest, stops and jumps upon Kelgryn’s back. Kelgryn’s forlorn look breaks a slight smile. “Yes, I too am glad our stay here is ending. But I am still unsure how long our journey with the half human and the Lokaran will continue.”

“A guild of theives and little more. I tell you Garath, not even the rotting stench of Sel-Kai back docks can leave a greater sourness in my throat. Navigator’s… cutpurses, the lot of em’” Garath listens respectfully to Yorell’s ranting but does not respond.

“With the Captain’s permission, I believe we are ready to depart, Kelgryn.”, Garath says. He looks over the bay were Kasha is flying, looking for surfacing fish. The small dragon changes direction sharply and with a few wipes of her wings accelerates over the water towards Garath’s outstretched arm.

“Aye, lets leave this forsaken island and pray to Shaal that the essence barrier does not reappear.

It is then the black sails appear over the horizon. “Yarthraak,” Yorell whispers. “By the nameless one they’ve found me again.”