Luneshire Port, Azure Valley
"Oh," Finnor Caskel murmured, eyes fixed on the shimmering horizon. "The sorceress was right. They're here. Ten of them."
He stood steady at the captain's dais, hands resting on the rune-lit helm. Sienna-Rose had trusted him with command of the ship itself, its movement, its balance, and its survival. That trust weighed heavy, but it also steadied him. This vessel is no ordinary warship. It responded to will as much as command.
Beyond the illusion veil, the silhouettes of Thalurian warships loomed, wooden hulls, towering masts, and arcane lanterns glowing faintly through the mist. Ten predators, confident in numbers, unaware they had already sailed into a grave.
"Drop the veil," Finnor ordered calmly. His voice carried through enchanted relays across the deck. "We're ready."
