You survey the aftermath of the battle with mixed emotions. You feel elated at having helped Lanza to win, but the ice-boat, which was to have conveyed you to Ixia, is now a burned wreck lying at the bottom of the harbour. All that can be seen of it is a few feet of its mainmast protruding at an angle above the surface of the sea. As you stare at this blackened masthead, you are joined by Captain Prarg.
What in Ishir’s name can we do, Grand Master?’ he says, staring dejectedly at the icy water which is swirling in eddies around the submerged wreck. ‘That ice-boat was the only vessel capable of transporting you to Ixia.’
‘Never fear, Prarg,’ you reply, confidently. ‘I’ve just had an idea that could be the answer to our problem.’
‘There’s the answer,’ you say, pointing to the Ixian ship.
‘B … b … but … ’ stammers Prarg, clearly taken aback by the suggestion.
‘I grant you, it is a strange craft,’ you say, ‘but it looks well-suited for passage through icy waters. It served the enemy’s purpose well enough—I say it’s time we put it to better use.’
Prarg gives a weak smile and follows hesitantly in your wake as you leap aboard the deck of the Ixian ship.
‘First we’d best make sure it is empty,’ you say, as you unsheathe your weapon.
‘Very well,’ replies Prarg, ‘which end do you wish to search, Grand Master, the bow or the stern?’
(The bow)
You advance cautiously along the ice-slick decking towards the high curving prow of this alien vessel. Strange and intricate carvings decorate every inch of its coal-black timbers, and runic symbols embellish the metal plates which sheathe the hull forward of the mainmast. Calling upon your Kai senses, you determine that this vessel was not constructed by the unhuman creatures who crewed it, but that it is an ancient ship, built and crafted by a race of mariners who have long since disappeared into the mists of time. Closer examination of the timbers reveals it to be more than eleven thousand years old.
An open hatch at the bow leads down into a gloomy hold where you discover a tangle of rotten rags and rusty weapons. Among this debris you find a Stone Bowl, a Crystal Tiara, and a Coil of Oiled Rope. (If you wish to keep any of these Backpack Items, remember to adjust your Action Chart accordingly.)
You are about to venture deeper into the hold when suddenly you hear Prarg’s voice—he is calling for you to come to the stern.
(I take all three items)
You climb out of the forward hold and hurry along the deck to a flight of steps which ascend to the raised stern. A wheelhouse stands in the centre of the stern deck, inside of which you find Prarg examining a large glassy sphere mounted upon an ornate base of glittering black stone. A low hum and a faint greenish glow radiate from this sphere, which in turn is connected by silver tubes and strands of braided metal to the wheel which steers the craft.
‘What do you make of this, Grand Master?’ says Prarg, inviting you to take a closer look. You inspect the devices and determine them to be the propulsion and steering mechanisms. After careful appraisal of the controls you determine that you could easily sail the vessel.
‘Well, Grand Master,’ he says, staring bemusedly at the strange workings of this ship, ‘this is a rum craft and no mistake. Are you sure it can carry you to Ixia?’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ you reply. ‘In fact I’m certain that it will be safer to sail the Tozaz in this ship than to attempt a crossing in any ice-boat bearing the Lencian flag.’
Prarg looks out of the wheelhouse window at the sunken remains of the ice-boat and says: ‘I hope you’re right, Grand Master. I sincerely hope you’re right.’
You leave the Ixian ship and go in search of Captain Lanza. You find him with his men by the watchtower—they are building a bonfire out of rags and broken bones. A toothless sergeant empties a gallon of skark oil onto the heap and a burning torch sets the whole thing ablaze.
You stride over to Lanza and slap him heartily on the back. ‘Well fought, captain. You and your men have brought honour to Lencia this day.’
Captain Lanza greets your compliment with a sombre face. ‘Nay, sire,’ he says, sadly. ‘ ’Tis the enemy who’ve won. The ice-boat is sunk and we cannot sail you to Ixia.’
‘We can use the enemy ship, Captain,’ you reply. ‘It is perfect for the task. All I need of you are some provisions and a crew.’
Lanza’s face brightens. He orders his men to prepare the Ixian ship and within the hour you are ready to set sail.
‘May the gods watch over you, Grand Master,’ says Prarg, as you bid him and Lanza farewell.
‘Do not fear,’ you reply. ‘I shall soon return.’