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Your quarters turn out to be cramped and smelly, sandwiched between the ship’s galley and the bilge. Despite the lack of space, and a stomach-churning smell redolent of dead fish, you manage to snatch a few hours’ sleep before you are awoken by a grey dawn haze filtering through the grimy glass of the cabin’s solitary porthole.
Up on deck the captain stands alone at the forecastle rail, scanning the empty horizon through his telescope. You join him and take the opportunity to deliver the envelope you are carrying.
‘ ’Tis a brave and risky venture you’ve committed yourself to, comrade,’ he says, his grey eyes devouring the words of the parchment, bearing the seal of the Brotherhood of the Crystal Star, which he finds folded inside. ‘Yet these be risky times. I can only surmise what lies beyond your journey to Dejkaata, but of one thing you can be sure—I will do all in my power to see you safely there.’
Immediately he issues orders to turn the ship about and steer a new course—north by northwest. The crew react to the sudden change of plan with great speculation, yet, despite the dangers they know they may face, none challenge their captain’s decision or voice dissent.
