Morning started early for Gremory's Hero Party.

After the incident of yesterday's restaurant, Ryn quickly issued a command for both his party and crew.

No fresh seafood.

Anything caught from the sea that morning was to be discarded. Meals were to come from preserved stores or inland supplies only.

There were no questions.

The sailors didn't argue. Some exchanged uneasy looks, but they followed the directive without complaint. After yesterday, no one was eager to test their luck.

Amelia caught up to Ryn as the last crates were loaded onto the vessel they'd be using to get to the mainland.

"You think it's already that bad?" she asked.

"I have no clue," he replied. "We just have to hope that it hasn't."

Ryn stopped at the edge of the pier and took a moment to look the vessel over.

His perception of the airship widely skewed his common sense. The vessel, which would be considered large due to normal standards, looked a bit cramped to Ryn.

Still it was solid and would do its job fine.

The hull was reinforced with layered planks and bound by dark metal bands, each seam sealed tight enough that even years at sea wouldn't pry them apart.

Ryn crouched briefly and ran his fingers along the edge of the hull. The wood was cold, faintly damp from the morning air.

He straightened and glanced toward a nearby dwarf tightening a rope.

"How long does it take to reach Khaz Vordun?"

"'Round a day," the dwarf grunted without looking up. "Could be faster, but this baby ain't built for speed."

Ryn nodded once.

A full day at sea.

Plenty of time for something to go wrong. The first would probably be his stomach.

He looked out toward the water again.

Mist swung low over the surface, swallowing the horizon. Waves rolled in long, uneven laps that didn't quite match the breeze.

"A day," he repeated quietly.

Ryn was still watching the mist when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Alright," Taylor said briskly. "We're done here."

He blinked and looked back at her.

"…Done?"

She released him and gestured toward the boat, already half-loaded. "Crew's finished securing the supplies and prepping the ship."

Ryn glanced past her. "What about the airship crew?"

"They're staying in Pearlreach," Taylor replied without hesitation. "I rented out a few places near the docks. It's safer if they don't come any closer to whatever's going on out there."

Ryn raised a brow.

"You rented places?"

She shrugged.

"It's nothing extravagant."

"But yeah," she continued. "It was a hassle, do you know how many crewmembers we have?"

He looked at her for a moment, then sighed.

"Every time I forget how terrifying your finances are, you remind me."

Taylor snorted.

"Relax. It's all Maria's money."

That earned a brief pause.

"…I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Ryn said.

"You can't," she replied cheekily. "Everything is going under the name "Captain Ryn", so it's actually your responsibility."

Ryn shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned back toward the boat.

"Alright," he said at last. "Let's go."

As they both got up the plank, Ryn already noticed the rest of his party there.

Fritz stood near the mast, arms folded as he watched the shoreline recede, his expression calm but attentive. Jay leaned against a crate nearby, checking straps and equipment with habitual thoroughness, while Amelia rested near the rail, gaze fixed on the water with a thoughtful frown.

The mood was… strange.

Better than the night before, but only because everyone was pretending the unease from Dheam hadn't followed them.

Ryn stepped onto the deck fully this time, boots thudding softly against the wood.

"Everyone settled?" he asked.

Jay gave a quick nod. "Yup. We've got preserved meats, no seafoods."

"Good," Ryn replied.

Fritz glanced back at him. "Feels quiet."

"Ports always do once you leave them," Ryn said.

That didn't seem to reassure anyone.

A heavy cough sounded from near the helm.

Ryn turned to see the vessel's captain, a broad-shouldered dwarf with his beard braided tight, one eye clouded with age or an old injury.

The man wore a thick cuirass, one made of leather that seemed like he'd never gotten it restitched. Even as a dwarf, the man felt bigger somehow, having this authority that came not just with age, but with experience.

He rested both hands on the wheel, posture relaxed but alert.

"You the one in charge?" the dwarf asked.

Ryn inclined his head. "For better or worse."

The captain huffed once. "Figures. Name's Hadrik. I'll be gettin' you to Khaz Vordun, assumin' the sea behaves."

"Assuming," Ryn echoed lightly as he stepped closer. "What route are we taking?"

"Straight shot would be fastest," he said. "But we won't be doing that."

Ryn raised an eyebrow. "Because?"

"Currents've been acting wrong," Hadrik replied. "Pullin' east when they shouldn't. Fightin' the current is the number one mistake that gets ya killed."

He traced an invisible line with one thick finger.

"We skirt the outer reefs first, then cut inward once we're past the worst of it. Adds a few hours, but keeps us out of deeper swells."

Ryn considered that. "Anything else we should know?"

Hadrik's jaw tightened, just slightly.

"You lads are capable fighters, yes?" he asked.

"…If somethin' hits the hull," Hadrik continued, "don't assume it's debris."

"What do you mean by that?" Jay asked for the side, slightly softly in tone but the message had gone across.

"The sea between us Port towns and mainland Khaz Vordun is home to various creatures."

"And not all of em' are gonna be pals," he continued, "if you catch my drift."

That earned a glance from his party.

Ryn nodded once. "Understood."

Hadrik studied him for a moment longer, then grunted. "Good. I prefer passengers who listen."

With a single command from their captain, the dwarven crew got to work. Loosening knots that bound the ship to port, and unfurling masts to finally catch the wind.

The ship finally began to move out.

Ryn stood near the rail as the last signs of Pearlreach slipped past them—the clustered buildings and silhouettes now looked like shadows. Voices faded into nothing but wind and water.

The town had disappeared into the mist, the warmth of land swallowed by gray, until there was nothing left behind them but water.

Ahead, the sea stretched wide and indistinct.

Pearlreach was gone.

And Khaz Vordun lay somewhere beyond the fog.

With the final pull of the oars, the vessel started speeding forward, leaving any sense of safety and the known behind.

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