[I]The invisible blade bore itself into the old swordmaster's chest; and it seemed that time stopped for him. He looked over to Kath, his mouth contorted in the beginning of a scream, his blade still half-buried in an Orderling. Deya's eyes widened, perhaps in her disbelief. To his right, he saw Rauz and Lexi move towards Gandilos dropping Otis' lifeless corpse onto the ground. And he looked down, trying to force the tears from welling in his eyes. He was still holding the blade driven firmly into his chest, trying to move forward to help. He was so weak. Unable to help anyone...[/I]

Marlowe sat up in his bed, his eyes widened, beads of sweat moving slowly down his forehead. On the other side of the room, Viera was still asleep on her bunk. He took a moment, taking a deep breath in, and out, before calming himself. That battle had felt like an eternity ago; but he dreamt of it regularly. It was the best argument he gave Rauz for leaving Dun. He couldn't bear to watch anyone else die due to his weakness, and Rauz had spoken of legends of legendary weapons in some far off country. And now, here he was. Returning to the closest place he could deem "home". 

He'd grown used to the rocking of the bed against the waves of the ocean. These nice iron ships weren't as unstable as a wooden boat, but the sensation was still there. Those who weren't used to the crashing of waves, the instability of walking, the ease of slowly moving from one side of a room to the other-it was no wonder some ran to the side of the ship to puke. But Marlowe was raised on the sea. For him, it was the ancestral mother of all creatures; and all waters were her domain. He had slept the best nights in the past few months on the small bed of the ship, compared to his odd patterns on land. Perhaps Viera; the teal-haired woman traveling with him took notice of that; perhaps she didn't. He was still confused on why she demanded to travel with him and see the world. He supposed that living on an island full of traditions and rules would cause a freer spirit to pray for escape, but still; why with [i]him[/i] of all people? 

The huge blade; named Caladbolg to the people of Derim, was still leaned against the wall. Viera had told him that the blade, once bonded to him, would be weightless, yet weigh an infinite amount to anyone who dared wield it but him. But the blade still felt weighty to him. Perhaps it was in his imagination. When he approached the Temple of Meras, he saw the countless unmarked graves surrounding the temple. Those who attempted to claim the blade for themselves; those who tried to bend the power of the blade to their wills, before being drained of their lives. 

The smell of the cabin was...less than ideal. A mix of seawater and something that could be referred to as "murk" was permeating throughout the hold of the ship, and Marlowe decided to leave Viera resting for a moment, and catch what passed as fresh air here. Opening the door, he felt a slight chill exiting the cabin, an indicator of the cool nights of early spring. Usually the nights were clear, but tonight was beset by a heavy fog. The fog was also thick and rank, almost as if it were colored by the smells of...a swamp! 

Marlowe briskly walked towards the bow of the ship, looking over the railings to see the faint flow of the streetlamps admist the fog. He walked over to the boatswain, still awake in and performing his boat duties. "Excuse me-" 

"Yeh? Shoul'n ye be sleepin'? It's still early mornin'." 

"No, I know, I just wanted to know if we've arrived in Dunric." 

"Yeh." 

"Thank you." The older man turned around and went back to his duties, probably going back to ignoring Marlowe's existence again. Well, that answered that, at least. They'd probably unload when the dock workers arrived. Marlowe returned back to his cabin, a little spring in his step now. The voyage was over, and now it was time to find Rauz, Lexi, Kath and Deya. As he entered the cabin, Viera was still curled up in her sheets, her diminutive form making shapes. Marlowe forced himself not to let his gaze travel for long. She was a strong woman; lean and toned, and a skilled swordsman and hand to hand fighter. Which meant she could hold her own easier than Marlowe. And that scared him. What if another situation happened where someone needed his help and he was busy on the floor, half dead? He couldn't let that happen again-

A soft moan came from the other side of the room. "Marlowe? Why are you up? It's still night." 

"Sorry. Just needed some air." He sat back down on his bed, and sighed, before laying down completely, and forcing himself to drift off to sleep. "Sorry for waking you up..." He received no reply, and soon he faded back into the muggy darkness of sleep. 

The sound of the the ship's bell; ringing nonstop-two...four...eight times. Marlowe's eyes adjusted to the soft light from the port window, and yawned. Eight bells at morning meant it was probably eight in the morning, which meant it was time for Viera and him to head out. Marlowe stretched, turning over, to see Viera already dressed, standing up by his bed. "You snore too much." 

"Sorry-" Marlowe quickly threw on a red jacket over his old white shirt, and patted his hair down the best he could. This was no time for primping and making himself look fancy; he needed to get to the Vann Office and get in contact with Kath. Hopefully his friends had held off the Order well enough during his time away searching for power. 

He led Viera from the ship, who was dressed much more cooly than he was used to seeing her in. Which of course meant that her cloak was under her arm instead of over her. Her face told it all; she was a girl from a cold and desolate country, and he had brought her into the early spring of the swamp. He didn't want see her face when they hit midsummer, when the heat became nigh-unbearable for someone unused to the climate. He led her down the cobblestone streets, passing the poorer parts of town as they approached the central part of the city. 
The Vann's office was a large, two story building, a mix of stone and wood, with fine vaulted roofs and ornate windows. It matched the finer architecture found in the more upscale part of the city; and it was a place he rarely ventured. Originally he was just a confused boy following Kath on business, now he did his best to carry himself into the office, past the Watch Office and towards a a wooden door with a glass window with matte black words pasted on it: Warden's Office. If anyone knew where Kath was, it'd be here. 

He opened the door, into the cramped Warden's office with several gruff looking gentlemen sitting behind desks. "Yeah?" One of them asked Marlowe, probably thinking the man came in the wrong office. 

"I'm looking for a warden; name of Kath." 

"Aye, he was here a few days ago. He's still out in the field. I'd check back another day kid." The older warden went back to his paperwork, and Marlowe, went back out the door sighing. 

"What's wrong?" Viera asked. 

"No luck on finding my friend. He's out in the swamps. And i'd rather not spend a month walking around aimlessly, looking for him." 

"Well, do you know anyone else in town?" 

"My friends Rauz and Lexi, but they could have moved on by now. Still...it wouldn't hurt to look for them." He smiled, getting a little more optimistic, and led her back outside. "Come on! We've got a whole day ahead of us!"