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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Fifteen: A Lesson In Humility, Pt 2

“You want to do what?!" Kirsta gasps.

“I don't remember stuttering." Valan coolly replies.

Sitting at the large dining booth, the entire crew of the Arona-Dahl crowd around the table. With his back pushed into the corner, Trellan listens with wide eyes. Steingar, who sits to his right, looks equally disturbed. The two teams returned only a short time earlier, and since then, they've shared all that they've learned. However, no one was expecting Valan to volunteer his services to strangers so freely.

“Look, I know this is an extreme offer I made them, especially considering who we are and what we have to lose, but look at these people! They're all suffering because of what's going on. You saw it!"

“Yeah... They're an absolute mess." Irzain nods.

“I know we don't owe them anything-"

“Damn right, we don't!" Kirsta interrupts.

“We could just leave but I think we should stay. At least try and find out what's going on here."

“I don't know about this..." Trellan sighs. “This is a lot of risk with no real reward."

“Yeah. What's in it for us?" Mairlynn cocks her head.

“What's in it for us?!" Valan's eyes widen, aghast by her coldness.

“Whoever is doing this is dangerous, and we aren't exactly mercenaries." Jarae remarks.

“We've got our own problems to deal with." Kirsta interjects.

“Maybe they're right, Val... We should probably just go." Merna adds.

“What's wrong with all of you?! These are people's lives we're talking about!"

“We understand that, but it just doesn't seem like a good idea to go sticking our noses where they don't belong." Mairlynn replies.

“It's a big risk, like Trellan said." Kirsta interjects.

“I'm with you... I'll back you up, Val."

Everyone pauses, turning toward Steingar. Their combined looks of shock as he finally speaks his mind bothers the Helngar, the bloodforge warrior and a former soldier for the Crown.

“Thanks, Steingar. I appreciate this."

“Anytime." Steingar grins.

“I, uh... I don't know about this." Trellan leans against the table, glancing toward Steingar. “You're a wanted man, and this is not the kind of exposure we need right now."

“I was already ashore, and people have seen my face. I've got the biggest bounty anyone has ever had, as far as we know, and nobody seemed to notice me. Steingar should be fine." Irzain remarks.

“I don't think enough people were around to recognize you." Kirsta retorts.

“And besides, this could be dangerous. Someone or something is taking these girls, and you're asking us to confront it." Jarae reasons.

“I'm not going to sit here and listen to stories about women being kidnapped and murdered, and just sit here doing nothing!" Steingar growls, slamming a hand atop the table. “If the wannabe barbarian wants to do something about it, I say, 'hell yes'!"

“Uh, thanks, I guess." Valan murmurs.

“Are you sure about this?" Merna looks toward the long-haired human.

“I can't, in good conscience, sit around and watch them suffer."

“Neither can I." Irzain agrees.

“I'm only suggesting we do a little digging and see where this goes. It might go nowhere, or we might be able to do some good; we won't know until we try." Valan continues.

“If this is what you want to do, I'm with you." Merna says, taking hold of Valan's hand.

“Thanks." He smiles warmly at her.

With the crew now divided in half over what to do about the missing women, Trellan sighs. He rests his forearms against the table and clasps his hands together, hanging his head. With eyes closed tightly, he seems deep in thought.

“Do we even have a place to start?" The old Vizhek suddenly asks.

“Well, we have what the blacksmith and his wife told us about their daughter." Jarae replies.

“That's not much..."

“No, but it's something." Valan swiftly retorts.

“They said she was heading to 'Klora's Market' when she went missing." Merna remarks.

“Wait... Klora's Market?!" Mairlynn gasps.

“Yeah. Why? Does that mean something to you?" Jarae wonders.

“That's near that hotel, right?!"

Mairlynn looks toward Kirsta, who suddenly feels around her person for the voucher. She opens a large pouch on her belt, which holds her miscellaneous belongings, and removes a slip of parchment from it. Unfolding the parchment, she sets it atop the table, presenting it to the crew.

“This was given to me by a Vizheki man. He looked younger, maybe in his forties or fifties, and was very well dressed." Kirsta begins.

The others look closer, and Valan reaches out. He collects the slip and examines it. To his surprise, the voucher has no actual writing on it. It's instructions and purpose are drawn out, like a little comic strip; everything is illustrated. This explains how an illiterate Kirsta and Mairlynn knew what the parchment said.

“How well dressed?" Steingar inquires.

“His clothes were exceptional; they looked like they were made of silk. Also, he had this golden drum-thing." Kirsta replies.

“Yeah! It was some kind of clock he wore around his neck!" Mairlynn adds.

“A Leinehn egg?!" Valan's brow raises in surprise.

“Is that what they're called?" Mairlynn cocks her head.

“Yeah. After Terep Leinehn, the famous clock maker. My father wanted to commission him for a Leinehn egg, but he had a year-long waiting list, and it was very expensive."

“This wasn't an egg, though. It was shaped like a cylinder or something." Kirsta retorts.

“That's an early model, but still expensive. They don't keep very good time, but the fact that he had one says a lot; he was certainly moneyed." Valan explains.

“You're very interested in that voucher." Irzain remarks.

“Yeah..."

Setting it atop the table, Valan slumps back in his seat. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, while tapping the table nervously with the fingertips of his other hand. Merna leans over, pushing an arm and a breast against him as she does. Jarae can see the little smile forming on Valan's lips, causing her heart to race and her face to flush beneath her fur.

“Why is this so important, Val?" Merna sweetly asks.

“I don't like how it's designed. It's very suspicious."

“How so?" Irzain seems perplexed.

“Look at it! A wealthy Vizhek approaches two women and just gives them a voucher for his hotel? I mean, it's designed for someone who's illiterate... The little cartoon says that it's worth one-hundred vasariks."

“That's what he said it would cost for a night." Mairlynn interjects.

“One-hundred?!" Steingar gasps, taking a closer look at the voucher.

“Who has one-hundred vasariks to spend on a single night in a hotel? A wealthy person, and wealthy means upper class... The upper class are pretty much all literate, because they need to be." Valan continues, a horrified look on his face.

“Oh... What exactly are you saying?" Irzain hesitates to ask.

“He's saying it doesn't make sense! Why the hell would this guy make slips for people who can't read, when he knows they likely can't pay for their stay either!" Steingar growls. “This sounds like a good lead to me."

Suddenly, and without warning, Valan gently pushes Merna away, rising from his seat. She stands to her feet as the others look to him. The long-haired human heads for the lounge archway.

“Where're you going?!" Merna asks with a worried tone.

“I'm going to grab a few things, and get some extra ammo. We might need it."

“Do you have any extra weapons?" Steingar asks, pushing his way out from the booth.

“I might have something you could use."

The others quickly rise to their feet, following the human and the Helngar as they make their way toward Valan's room. Throwing the door open and stepping inside, Valan retrieves a few items from the packed drawer or his nightstand. He collects a pouch full of balls and wadding, a compact powder horn, and a small satchel of strange, brass caps, custom-built for his weapons. Retrieving a strange weapon, he presents the dagger to Steingar. With an eight-inch blade, it's tapering, even triangular in shape, with no handle; two bars run from the blade, before meeting at a crossbar that connects the two.

“You hold it like this."

Valan grips the crossbar, turning the weapon into a massive push-dagger.

“I've seen these before. They're used by tribals on the mainland, and I think the Lahnyt have a sword version." Steingar remarks.

“They do. I saw it in a book; I thought it was an interesting design."

“So, do we have a plan, or are we going in there and smashing tables?" Kirsta asks.

“I have a little something in mind." Valan grins.

Heading for the front door, he can hear the knocking. Who's bothering them at this hour? Knock, knock, knock. Reaching the wooden barrier, Mortelan grips the brass handle, turns the expensive, mechanical deadbolt that holds the door shut, and pulls it open. His golden eyes widen as he stares down at the beautiful, buxom, blonde-haired and blue-eyed human. Beside her is her Falmun companion, who, while an adult, looks incredibly young. In her own, unique way, she could also be considered quite attractive.

His frustrated expression immediately fades, his thin, blue lips curling into a barely subdued grin. The light from the oil lamps that sit on either side of his hotel's doorway are all that illuminates the women, who stand in the darkness of the night.

“Well, hello there!" The Vizhek chirps.

“We were wondering if you could be so kind as to..."

Kirsta pauses, reaching into her pouch and removing the voucher. She presents it to Mortelan, who gently grasps the parchment, pulling it carefully away from her.

“I wasn't sure if I should expect you or not." He smiles.

“Oh! I-if you aren't ready, w-we could always come back some other time!" Kirsta sheepishly stammers.

“Nonsense! We're always ready for costumers!"

The towering elf stands aside, presenting the doorway to them.

“Please, come in!"

“Oh, thank you!" Kirsta exclaims, breathing a sigh of relief.

“This means so much to us!" Mairlynn chirps.

“And what of your man-friend?" Mortelan cocks his head, looking down the street.

“We had a, uh, misunderstanding..." Kirsta reluctantly explains.

“He kicked us out." Mairlynn whimpers.

“Really?!" Mortelan gasps.

“Uh-huh." Mairlynn slowly nods, looking cutely up at the elf.

“Well, don't you worry. We'll take good care of you." Mortelan grins.

From a dark alley, Valan and Steingar watch the two women as they're led inside by an unsettlingly eager Mortelan. Behind them, Jarae and Merna wait in silence, keeping watch for anyone who might notice the quartet. Irzain remained behind, watching the ship with Trellan. Valan and Steingar can't help but notice how the Vizheki man looks repeatedly to the left and to the right, as if worried someone might notice the two females entering his establishment in the dead of night.

“Come, you pretty little things. I'll show you to your suite."

“Thanks." Kirsta speaks softly.

“Are either of you hungry? I could have Brok make you something, and send it to your room!" Mortelan offers.

“That won't be necessary. We're fairly tired already, after what happened..." Kirsta somberly sighs.

“My apologies. If you need anything, feel free to find me at the front desk, or in the back room."

Reaching an ornate door, Mortelan pulls it open, holding it for the two women. They step inside, thanking him repeatedly for his kindness. Mairlynn strokes his forearm, smiling warmly as she enters the room, right behind Kirsta. They stand inside as Mortelan closes the door behind them, before he casually walks through the hallway, down the grand staircase, and returns to the front desk on the ground floor.

“So far, so good." Mairlynn comments, sitting atop the luxurious bed.

“Light that candle on the nightstand. We need to try this window."

“Wow! This is sooo soft! Come feel this bed!"

“Some other time."

“I bet it feels nice to those young brides, cushioning them while their eager husbands have at it... Mmm-what I wouldn't give to feel Valan on top of me in this bed."

Silently chuckling as she listens to Mairlynn's perverse ramblings, Kirsta glances toward the diminutive Falmun. The elf's hand slides down her toned belly, resting over her groin. Mairlynn's breath shivers as she gives herself a little squeeze, through her clothes.

“Damnit, Mairlynn! Focus!" Kirsta growls in a subdued voice.

“Alright, alright..." The dainty elf sighs in disappointment.

“Light that candle. I'll keep watch."

Walking slowly around the exterior of the hotel, Valan and the others keep their eyes peeled. They scan the darkened windows, looking for the signal. Jarae narrows her lids over her shimmering, pink orbs, seeing a faint flicker of a candle's flame. It passes by a window on the second floor, then again, and then a third time.

“There." She whispers to the others.

“I see it. Damn... We need a ladder." Valan quietly grumbles.

“There's a toolshed over there." Merna points to the back of the hotel.

“Let's check it out." Steingar whispers.

Sitting atop the bed once more, Mairlynn slumps back, sighing with delight. She closes her ruby eyes, enjoying the comfort of the luxurious bed, which is clearly not stuffed with the usual materials. Sliding her diminutive but lithe body further atop the bed, she rests her head on a pillow. It's stuffed with real feathers! She turns her eyes toward Kirsta, who now stands by the window, watching the others for a moment.

“Wow, they spared no expense. This place is really fancy."

“Mhm..."

“You really should try this bed. Who knows when we'll see another one!"

“Yeah..." Kirsta sighs.

As the others return from the toolshed with a modest ladder, the human turns her eyes toward the window's frame, looking for a way to open it. To her shock, there are no latches; it cannot open. She taps on the glass, startled to find that it's unusually thick. It thunks with each soft strike of her knuckles.

“If only our rooms on Arona were this nice, or at least mine." Mairlynn softly chuckles.

“Shit..."

“What's wrong?" The elven woman sits up, looking to Kirsta.

The blonde human merely turns her sapphire eyes toward the small Falmun, never answering her with words. From the other side of the window, Steingar seems to speak to Kirsta, but neither woman can understand him. Is he whispering that quietly? Kirsta shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head. With a furled brow, Steingar steps even higher, now at the top rung of the ladder. He turns his head down, his glowing, golden eyes scanning the window's frame and glass.

“Shit." Steingar grumbles.

“What's wrong?!" Valan asks in a hushed voice.

“These windows don't open, and this is extra thick glass."

“Shit..." Valan murmurs.

“What's that mean?"

“I've seen thick glass used before, for soundproofing and protection. It's very expensive and quite rare."

“But why make windows with thick glass, that don't open?" Merna asks, cocking her head.

The two men and Jarae both glance back at her with fretful expressions. Merna suddenly realizes the implications, a sinking feeling developing in the pit of her stomach.

“Well, we've got to get them out of there!" She loudly whispers.

“We know." Steingar grumbles.

From inside, Kirsta motions with her hands, suggesting that they pop the window from the wall. Moving down the ladder, Steingar returns to the toolshed, while Valan climbs the ladder, looking the window over himself. The horror on his face becomes more evident at the mere sight of its construction. Steingar returns, handing Valan a series of tools. Mairlynn stands beside the bed, her arms crossed before her little body as she looks toward the window. She trembles with nervousness as Kirsta uses her dagger to try and push the window out.

“W-what d-do we do now?" The Falmun stammers.

“Help me get this damn thing out."

“W-why would t-they design it like this?!" The elf wonders, joining Kirsta.

“Do I really need to answer that question?"

Looking up at the human, who stands a head taller than her, Mairlynn can see the terror in Kirsta's eyes. Though she tries to remain strong and confident, her womanly fears bleed through her eyes. With their daggers in hand, both women feverishly work to damage the frame. From just outside, Valan quietly taps around the frame with a mallet and chisel. Knock, knock, knock. Steingar winces at the sound, turning away. Knock, knock, knock. He reaches his hands up, covering his swept back, tapering, triangular ears. Both Jaliscan women take notice, looking to each other before turning their attention to the clearly disturbed Helngar. Knock, knock, knock.

“Are you alright?" Jarae asks.

“Rrrr... What's taking so damn long?!" Steingar growls.

“I'm trying not to wake the dead, or alert the men inside!" Valan angrily whispers back.

“Out of the way, you puny human."

Climbing the ladder, the two men struggle to maintain balance. Passing the tools to Steingar, Valan falls back, tumbling from the ladder and landing with a thud in the dirt. He falls from nearly eight feet, landing with a thud onto his back. Somehow, he prevents himself from crying out.

“Let a superior being do this." The Helngar smirks.

“Val!" Merna races up to him.

Jarae stands frozen, watching as her rival tends to the human who means so much to her. The Jaliscan woman who was discarded by Radiz so readily for Jarae now commands all of Valan's attention, the way that Jarae had, when they were marooned on that little island. It stings her chest and holds her in place, as if roots have sprung from the ground and entangled her boot-clad feet. Thump, thump, thump. Steingar angrily and violently chips away at the frame. Thump, thump, thump. Kirsta and Mairlynn step away from the window, grasping their weapons. Heavy footfalls rush toward the door. It swings open, and a darkened figure rushes in.

“What do you two, sweet, little things think you're doing?!" The man cackles.

Lurching further inside, the man reaches out for Kirsta, the dim candlelight revealing the skin tone of his hands. He's pale, not blue. Grabbing her as his hood falls back, they can see that it's a human man. He must be the adopted brother, Brok. He grabs Kirsta's chest, fondling a breast quiet violently as he shoves her onto the bed with remarkable strength. Neither Kirsta nor Mairlynn have the time to stab him. Mairlynn leaps onto his arm just as Brok turns his attention to her. She raises her Kris, but Brok, who is quite large for a human, standing roughly six feet tall, throws the Falmun to the ground.

Kirsta rises from the bed and tries to punch Brok in the groin, but he grabs her fist. As mighty a warrior as she is, she still isn't a match for a strong man. His other hand grabs Kirsta's wrist, before she can stab him, taking control of her dagger. With a harsh yank, he painfully twists Kirsta's wrist, forcing her to drop her blade onto the bed, where it becomes buried in the ruffled covers.

“Hah! Nice try, you whores!"

He shoves her back again and climbs atop her, to Steingar's horror. Thump, thump, thump, thump! With the frame thoroughly damaged, chunks broken away from it, he begins prying the window away from the building, pulling with all of his might. Brok licks Kirsta's face, a hand squeezing her ample breast rather painfully through her turquoise garments, while the other grasps her throat, choking her.

“I'm gonna enjoy you, you tight, little-"

“Enjoy this!"

Mairlynn jabs the tip of her Kris into Brok's buttocks, stabbing two inches of steel into his flesh.

“Ow! You little bitch!" Brok snarls.

She scrambles up his back, turning the blade over and preparing to stab him in the kidneys, to paralyze him. However, Brok is wise to this. He rolls, elbowing Mairlynn in the side of her head. She drops the dagger as she falls onto the floor. Her Kris slides away from her. Rising from the bed, Kirsta struggles to stand, a side effect of her partial suffocation. Brok backhands her in the face, knocking her atop the bed yet again.

“I'll get you later, but first..."

He pulls Mairlynn from the ground, holding her in the air by her armpits.

“I'm going to split you in half!"

“Go to hell!" Mairlynn spits in his face.

“Oh, yeah! You're going to make this so much fun."

Brok switches his grip, holding her with a single arm; Mairlynn hangs from his arm by her shirt, like a coat on a rack. His free hand moves toward his trousers, which he begins to push down.

“You're like the little sister I always wanted." He grins sinisterly.

“Oh, no! Not this!" Mairlynn whimpers.

“Let her go, you bastard!"

Kirsta throws her dagger, stabbing Brok in the arm that holds Mairlynn in the air. He cries out in pain as he drops her to the ground. Without missing a beat, Kirsta attacks him, but Brok is over two-hundred pounds of muscle. He grabs her and heaves her across the room. Her back slams painfully into a decorative table. He then collects the terrified Mairlynn, who scrambles toward her Kris. Reaching for the dagger with the wavy blade, her nails drag on the floor as he pulls her along by an ankle.

“Ahh!" She screams.

“We're going to finish this in the dungeon, you sexy little bitch." Brok laughs.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Brok pauses, looking around the room.

“What the hell is that?! Wasn't that you?!"

He turns toward Mairlynn, who rolls onto her side and kicks a slender leg, trying to break free. A crashing sound startles the wounded human. He turns toward the window, only to see the imposing form of a Helngar leaping into the room. Racing toward him, Steingar tackles the human, nearly stepping on Mairlynn as he shoves the man across the room. Racing inside right after Steingar, Valan rushes to the small elf's aid, pulling her into his arms.

“Who the hell-"

“You like hurting women, you piece of shit?! Well, I love hurting men!" Steingar snarls.

He punches Brok in the face, knocking out several teeth, which he spits out onto the expensive rug that covers the wooden floorboards. Straddling the human, Steingar sits over his stomach and pulverizes his face, striking him over and over again. Suddenly, Steingar winces as Brok jams a knuckle hard, into a pressure point on the Helngar's side. This would normally be inaccessible, were he wearing his royal plate armor, however, Steingar wears only regular clothes. Shoving the Helngar off of him, Brok punches him in the face with one hand, while grasping his throat with the other, trying to choke the consciousness from him.

“Look who's superior now, you son of a-"

Bang! Chunks of Brok's face blow away from his head as a fifty-caliber ball bashes through it. Blood and brain matter splatter Steingar's face as he turns away, only to have the wind knocked out of him as the hefty human falls dead atop his body.

“Good shot!" Merna chirps.

“Good riddance." Kirsta snarls, spitting out some blood.

Looking past the corpse, Steingar sees Valan holding one of his custom pistols, smoke billowing from the barrel. Mairlynn shivers, tucked beneath one of his arms, while Merna seems to both hug the human and comfort the elf. Moving past the women, Valan reaches out for Brok's body. Steingar, however, angrily shoves the corpse off of him, pushing the human's body away. Valan reaches out a hand, but Steingar smacks it away from him.

“You didn't need to shoot him."

“I'm sorry?!" Valan's brow raises in shock.

“I had him!" Steingar growls.

“He was thirty seconds away from killing you."

“He wasn't capable..." The Helngar snarls.

“Yeah, because you were doing so well!" Valan snickers.

“Alright, you two! We have a job to do!" Jarae angrily interjects.

“Yeah. Let's finish this." Kirsta grumbles, wiping her bloody lips.

The gang moves through the hotel room, toward the hallway. Steingar and Valan both peek out and into the hallway before making their way through it.

“You were right. That bed was soft." Kirsta quietly remarks to Mairlynn.

“I told you."

“Yeah, you did." Kirsta grins.

Moving through the hotel, it's eerily silent. No one seems to have noticed the gunshot. Furthermore, no one else seems to be in the hotel. Where is Mortelan? Is his brother, Torvelan, somewhere inside with him? Have they both fled? Valan reloads his pistol, before retrieving the other, holding a weapon in each hand. Steingar keeps his oversized push-dagger at the ready, while Kirsta, Mairlynn, and Jarae all hold their weapons; Merna is unarmed. As they move through the hotel, the two men, who lead the others, move cautiously down the stairs. They see the front desk from the base of the grand staircase. No one is there. A tall, slender door is visible in the corner, behind the desk.

“He said there was a back room." Mairlynn whispers.

“Let's check it out, then." Steingar grins.

They reach the front desk, quietly climbing over it. Carefully pushing open the door, they peek inside. No one is in the humble bedroom.

“Where could they be?" Steingar wonders.

“We could search room to room." Valan suggests.

“Wait... A dungeon. That bastard said something about a dungeon." Kirsta remarks.

“Yeah! Dungeons are usually in basements, right?!" Mairlynn looks to the men.

Steinger and Valan share a gaze, their brows raising as they both seem to silently agree. Making their way through the hotel, which is exquisitely furnished, they find themselves standing before a long staircase that leads underground. Entering the basement, they find themselves standing at the end of a solitary hall, lined with rooms, and each one with a wooden door. At the far end, however, is a door that is unlike the others. It's lined with bands of iron, and has an open padlock hanging on a hook nearby. At the floor, just beside the doorframe is a fresh bucket of water, and high-quality linens.

“Ahh!" A woman screams.

“Oooohh, yeah! That's it!" A man sighs with relief.

“Yeah, get her! That looks so good." Another male chirps.

“N-no, p-p-please! N-not again!" A woman's voice pleads.

“Shut up, whore. Take it, like a good girl." The first man grunts.

“Nng-no! Please!"

“Put it on her! She's distracting me!"

“Ahh-puh-please! Nnngghh."

The woman's voice is suddenly muffled.

“Now that that's, mmm-settled..." The first man groans.

The entire time, the team creep through the hallway. Quietly, Steingar opens the door at the end of the hall. As they aren't sure what to expect, they peek inside before stepping into the room. The two men are left horrified by what they see. On the floor, in a corner, is a strange device. Four legs and a single, padded beam, holds up the nude body of a human woman. Chains from a collar are hooked to a wall, and shackles with chains leading from them are affixed to the same hook. With her arms above her head and a strange, leather ball stuffed into her mouth, held in place with straps that buckle together at the back, she is unable to cry out.

It's obvious, from her earlier cries and the way she whimpers, that these chains and her padded bench aren't a fetish; she's their prisoner, their sex slave. Behind her, Mortelan squats down, holding her hips with his large hands and swaying his pelvis back and forth. He sighs, grunts and groans with pleasure as he rapes her.

“Damn, that's sexy. I can't wait for Brok to bring that little Falmun down here. I like them when they look young!"

Standing with his back facing the door, the other Vizhek is also naked. He watches the brutal assault, a hand stroking his erect manhood. Valan looks at the woman, seeing a striking resemblance to Vella, his first love, who was stolen from him by his own father. It's as if he's watching Vella's rape at his father's hands. Steingar is equally repulsed, and the crew's blood collectively boils. A trembling Valan lifts his pistols. Steingar can't control himself, and acts on his anger. The four women cover their mouths or look away from the rape, and from what their men are about to do. With his push-dagger, Steingar grabs Torvelan's shoulder and jams the blade through his body.

Gasping for air as the blood spurts from his mouth, the Vizhek looks down in horror at the protruding metal that emerges from his belly. He rips the blade from his back, spins him around and slashes it across his chest, cutting his abdomen so deeply that his intestines begin spilling out. A startled and horrified Mortelan pulls himself from his victim's body, shoving his back against the wall. He watches in horror as Valan takes aim and fires, executing the already mortally wounded Torvelan, who lay helpless on the ground. Mortelan holds out his hands.

“Wait!"

Bang! His hand explodes as Valan fires.

“AHHHH!!!"

Mortelan grabs his wrist, staring with even more horror as he looks at the mangled hand that once held four fingers and a thumb, but now only has a thumb and index finger.

“Here."

Jarae steps up to Valan, handing him the small pistol that he'd given her. Without hesitation, he takes aim and fires. Mortelan's screams echo throughout the dungeon as he reaches down for his scrotum, to feel for the testicles that once sat betwixt his legs. Falling to the ground as the blood pool around him, Kirsta and Merna are quick to release the gagged and chained woman. Mairlynn finds a blanket, covering the woman's body and hiding the shame of her assault, and the trickle of blood that runs from her loins. No one speaks, and neither Steingar nor Valan dares to look.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!" The woman cries.

Valan glances toward the young woman, who holds onto Kirsta and Merna as if they were her long-lost parents. The blanket clings to her body, revealing just enough of her form. Her long, straight, raven's black hair, large D-cup bust, slender waist, broad hips, and big, emerald green eyes; she's nearly identical to Vella, with a body that might as well be a carbon copy, though Vella's eyes were amber.

“I thought I was going to die! I owe you so much!" The woman sobs.

“Shh. You're safe now." Merna pets the young woman's head.

“Della, right?" Kirsta asks.

“Yes."

“Your parents are going to be glad to see you." Kirsta smiles.

“You know my parents?!" Della sniffles.

“Yeah." Jarae nods.

Steingar and Valan look to the mutilated and groaning Vizhek, who lay atop the stone floor in a wonderfully pathetic heap.

“What do we do about this guy?" Mairlynn asks.

“Let's finish this!" Steingar growls.

“Wait!"

Valan grabs Steingar's arm, gaining his attention.

“... What if we let the people decide what to do with him?"

Valan grins a sinister grin, and Steingar cannot help but reciprocate. With Della safe, the group searches the remaining rooms of the dungeon. They find two women's corpses, and two living victims. They'd been bound, gagged, malnourished, abused and violated, multiple times. Releasing them all, they return them to their homes then and there, rousing the entire town as they do. In barely an hour, an angry mob has gathered around the hotel, and the screaming Vizheki man, whom they proceed to slowly and painfully torture to death.

With Mortelan hanging in a tree for all to see, the hotel is all that's left. It's ransacked, before the villagers perform their final act of retribution. The sun rises to the ashes of the hotel, burned to the ground by the enraged townsfolk. Standing at the docks that morning, Valan shakes the blacksmith's hand.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much for what you've done!" He cries tears of joy.

“It's alright." A teary-eyed Valan smiles, patting his shoulder.

“I couldn't have asked for more. I only hope that this is enough to show my appreciation." He continues, shaking Steingar's hand.

“It's more than enough. We certainly thank you." Irzain nods.

Watching from his cabin, Trellan witnesses the Arona's crew bringing sacks upon sacks of pitania infused coal aboard, alongside the townsfolk who've volunteered to help them. It's all that the blacksmith had in his stockpile, which he gleefully surrendered in exchange for his daughter, even though Della's saviors never asked for a reward. Moving across the gangplank, Valan stops Jarae, handing her the reloaded pistol that he'd originally given her.

“This is still yours." He says, resting a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Val...An. Valan!" She bashfully replies.

“You did so well." Merna coos, sliding up to him and interrupting the pair.

“I just did what I thought was right."

“Yeah! It was only right!" Jarae growls.

“But that deserves praise! You stood up for them, even when I didn't. I wanted to go, but you proved me wrong. You proved us both wrong. You're a hero."

“Aww, not really." Valan blushes.

“Yes..." Merna kisses him tenderly. “You are."

They share a gaze before Merna manages to pull Valan away. He doesn't even seem to notice that they're leaving Jarae alone on the deck as they head for the watertight hatch. Looking over her shoulder and staring back at Jarae, Merna tauntingly waves her fingertips as she leads the infatuated human below deck. As the last on the dock, Mairlynn stands with the blacksmith's family, watching them loading the fuel. Suddenly, Della's mother approaches.

“You helped bring my daughter home."

“Yeah. I hope she recovers." Mairlynn replies.

“She'll be fine... I, uh... I wanted you to have this. I thought I'd want it, to remember what we did to him, but it's just too painful a memory..."

The woman reaches into a small satchel that hangs by her side, from a cord that drapes over a shoulder. Removing her hand, she presents Mortelan's Leinehn egg. Mairlynn stands frozen as the woman places the golden watch-clock onto her palm, closing her fingers around it. The matching, golden chain hangs freely, swaying through the air.

“Keep it, to remember all the good you and your friends have done." The woman faintly smiles.

“Th-thanks..." Mairlynn feels her voice shaking.

Finally turning her eyes away from the expensive, ornate clock, she watches as the blacksmith and his wife return home to their daughter. She may no longer be in chains, but their weight won't be forgotten. Hopefully, in time, her wounds will heal. Mairlynn feels her heart aching for the parents and their traumatized daughter, silently wishing them the best as she drapes the Leinehn egg around her own neck. A few townspeople depart the ship, bowing their heads respectfully at the Falmun woman, who waves back.

“Okay! That was the last of them!" Steingar chirps.

“Ready to go?" Irzain asks.

Mairlynn turns her head, looking across the gangplank. After a silent pause, she merely nods her head. As she crosses the gangplank, Trellan finally emerges from the cabin.

“Done hiding?" Steingar teases the old Vizhek.

“I didn't think they'd want to see me, all things considered."

“Probably for the best." Irzain agrees.

“Let's carry on, shall we?"

Reaching the box beside the gangplank, Trellan pulls a few levers, retracting the gangplank, closing the gate and disconnecting the ropes that hold the ship to shore.

“Off we go!"

Trellan makes his way to the pilothouse, while the others head below deck. Mairlynn pauses as she sees Jarae. The Jaliscan looks devastated as she stands before the stairs, her back to the wall. She turns her eyes toward Mairlynn, before looking away and focusing her attention down the hall. Jarae reaches up and covers her ears, only to remember that the Falmun is watching her. Looking at Jarae, the two share a long, silent stare, before Jarae makes her way to the lowest deck. There, the Arona-Dahl's steam engine slowly hums, fed by the fuel given to them by the grateful blacksmith.

Watching the Jaliscan, Mairlynn wonders why she was so affected. What's bothering her so much? Making her way toward her own room, the Falmun hopes to finally be able to sleep. After all, the activities of the night have kept them awake since yesterday. Nearing her own room, she pauses. What's that noise? She leans closer to a closed door, the door to Valan's room.

“Mmmm, ooohhh! Ahh-yes! Oh, Val!" Merna moans.

“Nngf, do you like that, nngf, Merna?" Valan asks with a sweet voice.

“Ahh-yes! Please, Val! Don't stop! Mmmm!" Merna moans from pleasure.

“Pfft... Lucky animal." Mairlynn grumbles.