A search of the wreckage did not reveal Cley’s helmet, Caelian’s shield, or Isiah’s bow.  Kaspar had had two hand axes but those had been thrown into the demon swarm at the beginning of the fight and lost overboard. Their combat packs had still been safely stashed in the master’s cabin and they all had them on their backs; Isiah kept his quiver of arrows just in case another bow came along.  Now they were gathering out on the rocky ground to assess next moves.

The four of them had been hired by Cley through Falcon’s Flight Adventuring Guld in their hometown of Loreholm.  The job was to assist him in an investigation of eldritch incursions onto an island that had been slowly lowering into the Shattered Sea for decades.  As a SkyKnight Paladin, he and his order were sworn to protect the settlements throughout the Sea from the demonic Abyssal Domaine that thrived below the clouds.  He had presented it as a simple support role, low likelihood of combat, basically a walk in the park.

“Well,” said Isiah as they stood beside the useless hulk of timber and canvas that a few minutes before had seen a fully functioning skyship, “This isn’t the park I was thinking we’d be walking through this morning.”

Cley nodded.  “We’re definitely in a bad situation.”

Kaspar stood with his arms crossed and his chainmail covered in demon blood.  He started to say something but Caelian stepped in front of him and spoke up instead.  “Cley, you know more about this level of the Sea than any of us.  How much danger are we in and how do we get out of here?”

Cley’s shrug wasn’t very visible under his steel pauldrons.  “We don’t have very many options.  This island is maybe a couple square miles.  I think I saw some buildings to the north.  I say we head up there and see what kind of resources are available.  Maybe some villagers are still here that can help.”

Miah stood with both hands gripping her quarterstaff.  “How can there still be people here?  Wouldn’t they have all left?”

“You’d be surprised.  Not everyone can get off these islands as they go lower and lower.”

Miah blinked and looked incredulous.  “You’re a SkyKnight!  You’re supposed to be saving these people.”

Cley tilted his head slightly and barely shrugged again.  “Mee-ah, it’s not that simple.”

“It’s pronounced My-ah,” she said, with clear irritation.

Cley paused for several seconds, staring at her.  No one else said a thing.  Finally, Cley tilted his head the other way.  “Miss Larenfall, it’s not that simple.  People have all sorts of reasons for staying on these islands as they go Under.  Devotion to their homes, disbelief that anything bad is actually happening, all sorts of reasons.  Now, we need to get off this island as quickly as we arrived.  We can’t do it in this,” he said, waving a hand at the broken remains next to him.  “So we have to find another way.  And unless you can make the remaining skyshards embedded in this island rise up into our hands, the only hope we have is to make for that village and see what’s there.”  He looked at the rest of the group.  “Right now.  The rest of this discussion needs to happen on the road.”  With that, he walked down past them and started out onto a field of dead grass and grey moss.

Kaspar took a step after him.  “Why don’t you just whistle for your wyvern and lift us all out of here?”

Cley stopped and went rigid.  He paused only very briefly before turning and pointing at Kaspar.  “You can feel free to never mention that again.”  Then he turned and kept walking.

Isiah caught Kaspar’s attention and shook his head.  The fighter didn’t look apologetic but the others formed a box formation and Kaspar stepped into his position.  Isiah and Miah to Cley’s left and right, Caelian and Kaspar behind each of them.  

The ground was slick with dampness and it took Isiah several steps to realize that it didn’t feel like dew.  He didn’t want to think about what it could be.  After a few moments he decided to bring up another suggestion.  “We’re not that far from the island we were heading to.  If we combine all our shardbelts one of us should be able to fly there and get another skyship.”

Cley kept watching out in front of them as he walked.  “That is possible but not our best course of action right now.”  His voice had returned to a matter-of-fact and tactically minded level.  “Whoever went wouldn’t be able to make any kind of good speed.  It would take a day and a night, and night is not a very friendly place when you’re this low.  Plus, our ugly friends out there may be waiting for exactly that.”

Caelian spoke up with a soft tone in her voice.  “Once you don’t show up at that island, is anyone going to come looking for you?”

“Our itinerary wasn’t very specific; it’ll be days before anyone on the island sends a message asking after us.  And even when the SkyKnight Order realizes that we’ve disappeared it’s a very big search area and there’s a high likelihood of the same thing happening to them.”  He glanced back over his shoulder.  “Those demons were quasits and they were purpose built to bring down skyships.  Did you see how their touch could wither wood and corrode metal?  They also knew exactly where our skyshards were and went straight for them.  I used up my ability to turn demons just trying to keep them off us but there were too many.”

“Wait,” said Caelian.  “Do you think we were specific targets?”

“Maybe.  Although I suppose they could have just been hunting whatever skyship happened along this low.  We were in a standard clipper with a basic skyshard pattern.  Just another ship cruising by.”

Isiah looked back at Caelian.  “I thought demons like that couldn’t stand the sun.”

“Yes, it eventually kills them,” said Caelian.  “But quasits are expendable and they’ll do what they’re driven to do.  There’s always another power behind their actions.”

“Very true,” said Cley.  “And right now we don’t know what that power is or what it wants.  So we stick with the current plan.”

A few other ideas were discussed but conversation quickly died away and the group just walked and kept their focus on not slipping.  All the grass around them was yellowed and bent over.  All bare rocks were covered in a greyish green lichen.  As they walked, they noticed a thin layer of slime building up around the edges of their boots.  All about them was a mild stench that smelled like an animal had died nearby but you couldn’t be sure where.

The mist wrapped around the landscape like a death shroud.  Everything had a yellowish tinge to it and the sun was barely visible overhead as a dull orange circle in the sky.  The day was approaching noon but the light level was murky and muted like an overcast evening.  As Isiah looked about, he realized the most unsettling thing was the heavy quiet that hung all around them.  It was like the grass and the rocks were actively trying to absorb every sound.

It was Miah that eventually spoke.  “It’s all so ugly and forlorn here.”  She looked up at the sun.  “I always thought the Sea looked so beautiful.”

Cley shook his head and glanced back.  “You’ve been living on a high island too long.”

Miah stood up straighter while walking.  “I’ve been out in the world, I’ve seen things.  I’ve been adventuring for a few years.  We all have.”

“Have you now,” scoffed the paladin.  He walked a few more steps.  “Your leather armor is dyed light blue.  Don’t get me wrong, you look fantastic in light blue but it doesn’t really send the message of ‘grizzled adventurer’ does it?”

Miah looked over at her brother, eyes flaring with anger.  He just shook his head slightly and waved for her to ignore him. 

After a few more minutes of walking in the oppressive and now uncomfortable silence, Cley raised a fist.  Kaspar immediately stopped and stood perfectly still.  The others quickly followed his example.  Cley pointed to a line of trees emerging from the fog about a hundred feet from them.  The trees were unusually stunted; shriveled and bent over like flowers with lack of sunlight.  Walking along the edge of the trees was a man in homespun clothing, brown and tan, ragged.

Everyone stood and watched him for a moment.  He walked slowly and seemed to look about in despair.  After a few steps out into the grass he stopped and called out, “Tem!” as if he were looking for someone.  “Tem!”

Cley looked back at the others and was about to say something when the man saw them and shouted, “Have you seen my son?  My boy, Tem, is missing!”  His voice, tamped down by the mists, was forlorn and hopeless.  He seemed to lack any indication of surprise or concern at the appearance of five people, armed and armored.

Cley took a step towards him.  The others noticed that he had a hand on his longsword.  “We heard something not long ago, off in that direction!”  He pointed away from them at a right angle from their path.

The man gave no thanks.  He just turned in that direction and walked slowly away.  They all watched him disappear into the fog, calling his boy’s name again.

Miah said softly.  “Shouldn’t we help that man?”

Cley returned to walking.  “I’m not entirely sure he’s a man.”

The others just shared a look and followed.

A few more minutes of walking across the dead grass and they saw a line of posts emerge out of the mists, cutting in front of them.  Quickly they realized it had been a fence, with most of the cross beams now missing.  Another field of dead grass was beyond it.  “This is all dead farmland,” muttered Kaspar.

They passed through the old fence and soon found a cart path leading further north.  In another few minutes they saw a set of buildings alongside the path; a farmhouse, barn, and a few sheds.  All were ruined and decaying, with dark wood and collapsing roofs.  Vegetable plots ran beside the house and barn but were now choked with weeds and brambles.  They quickly scouted the area and found nothing useful.

Assembling back out on the road, Isiah said, “This isn’t looking good.”

“No,” said Cley.  He sighed slightly and looked to be about to say something else but instead turned and started off again.

After about a hundred yards they saw two more groups of ruined farmsteads far off to their left.  Before they could decide to march across the fields they heard some sounds ahead, the chop of some wood, someone calling out to someone else, the squeak of door hinges.  They kept walking, the cart path becoming more of a road, and heard more sounds of a small village just before the cluster of buildings started appearing in the fog.  Scents of cooking fires reached them about the time they saw their first villager.

He was stacking firewood behind a wooden house that seemed to still be in good repair.  Smoke was coming up from a chimney and they could see someone moving about inside.  The man looked up and saw them, about fifty feet away down the road.  He stopped and just watched them, making no move for his axe which was buried in a chopping block next to him.  

This time Cley kept his hands free and waved in the friendliest way he could.  “Good morning to you, sirrah.  We’ve been travelling for a while and we’re in need of an inn or tavern.  Might there be one ahead?”

The man pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.  “Center square,” he said with no enthusiasm.  Behind him, a woman came to the open window, wiping her hands on her smock.  She said nothing.  Just stared at them.

Cley waved again and started walking.  The two villagers kept staring at them.  

The buildings came closer together as they walked.  The road was now muddier.  They saw more people moving about but not as many as one would expect in the middle of the day.  Within a few moments of walking into view, all the villagers would stop and stare.  Miah tried smiling and nodding at them but was met with nothing but stony silence.  She watched as they passed by and soon the villagers would return to whatever they were doing before.

The center square had a church on one corner, an inn on another corner, and some rows of stalls for street vendors and farmers.  Most of the stalls were vacant.  A few had people in them, displaying food, clothing, or tools.  Like the road into town, everyone stared at them for a while before going back to their business.  The five of them stopped at the inn, a two-story building with a dilapidated sign and faded paint that read ‘Greyhawk’s Rest’.

Cley paused as he looked up at the sign but then motioned for them to cluster together.  Caelian kept her eyes moving all around as she came in close.  “This is strange,” she whispered.

Cley nodded.  “We might have less time than I thought.  Let’s go inside, see if we can get some information.  Oh, and don’t eat or drink anything.  We still have field rations, right?”  They all nodded.  “Keep them out of sight.”

Isiah tried not to look as worried as he felt.  “What’s happening here?”

“I’ve seen it before,” said Cley, nodding towards the people in the square.  “First, they’re robbed of joy, then they’re robbed of hope.  It just gets worse from there on out.”

They walked in through double doors and saw a large central room with the standard allotment of tables and chairs.  Across the room was a bar with a pale looking man working behind it.  A few quiet villagers were spread throughout the room.  To the left were three divided, semi-private areas; about ten feet by ten feet with a table, chairs, and a sideboard.  The windows along the walls were multi-paned and let in just enough light to see how gloomy it was inside.  Several of the support posts had lanterns and candles, all guttering with black smoke.  No music, no laughter, no spark of life visible anywhere.

Slowly, the patrons and the innkeep all turned and looked at them with the same strange, uncaring blankness as everyone else.  Cley motioned to the nearest semi-private table.  They walked over and started setting down packs and weapons.  When they all sat down, wearily letting all their weight rest on the chairs, the innkeep put his rag over his shoulder and walked over to them.  His skin was pale and sallow in the dim light, with a couple of sores visible on his left temple.  “What can I get for you?” he said, with an old and raspy voice.  The other patrons seemed to go back to ignoring them.

Cley smiled.  “Thank you, my friend.  We’ll start with something simple like some bread.”

The innkeep shook his head.  “Sorry, we ran out of bread a week ago.  Barley didn’t come up right last season.  There’s some mushroom soup and fried rocktopus.”

“That sounds grand.  We’ll have some of that all around.”

The innkeep nodded and shuffled off.

Kaspar mumbled, “What the hell’s a rocktopus?”

Cley gave another of his almost imperceptible shrugs.  “Who knows?  We’ll be polite and pay well, but we won’t eat.  I’ll ask if there’s a village headman we can meet.  Or maybe there’s a trader or craftsman that still might have the ability to travel off island.”

They sat while the innkeep prepared dishes behind the counter.  No one felt like talking but after a moment, Caelian asked Cley, “You paused for a bit outside.  What were you thinking about?”

Cley took a long time to answer and they could see the thoughts wheeling through his head.  Finally, he said, “I may have been here before.”

“What?” asked Miah.  “When?”

“It would have been several years ago.  I was on a team of SkyKnights patrolling these northern reaches.  We’d get word from time to time of suspected abyssal incursions.  I think we fought a phage demon somewhere outside of town.”  With a heavy sigh he looked over at Kaspar.  “It was where my wyvern died.”

The stories of SkyKnights and their faithful wyvern steeds were legendary.  The bond was deeper between man and beast than most people could imagine.  When one of them died, it was not uncommon for the SkyKnight to leave the order and live the rest of their days alone.  For the wyvern, they were often put down.

Kaspar avoided the paladin’s gaze.  “I’m sorry.”

Miah steamed.  “But wait, that means the SkyKnights have known about this island for years and done nothing?”

Isiah found himself struggling to just keep everyone from arguing.  “Miah, he just said he fought a phage demon-” His sister shut him up with a glare.

Caelian shushed them all.  The innkeep was walking up with a serving platter.  They all looked up and smiled politely.

The plates set in front of them were basic wooden trenchers with a cup of thin soup on one side and two or three suckered tentacles on the other.  The rocktopus was black and withered and smelled sickly sweet, like treacle that had been vomited up by a leprous dog.  The smiles on their faces froze in place as they looked down at their food.  It took Cley several moments to blink his eyes and start to say thank you. 

There was a shout from outside.  The innkeep turned to look out a window across the room.  A shadow crossed in front of it, dark and unnatural.  “Oh no,” said the innkeep.  “They’re early.”