~ ⦽ ~ 
  Castle Iskar
    The Cleavermaw turned hard, leaned with the wind, then righted itself as the
    crew scrambled to adjust the sails. 
  
  
    Kaptain Mogrum stood next to the helm, hanging on to the rigging with one
    hand and his hat with the other. Lost Uzzog stood just behind him, calling
    out course adjustments over the noise of the winds.
  
  
    The lookout in the crow’s nest, and over half the crew, watched the distant
    floating castle, silhouetted against a twilight sky, hanging in the air over
    Iscarion.
  
  
    In the prow a small group of orruks tried to look busy while not really
    doing anything productive. They chatted in hushed tones, while slowly
    coiling a rope, or rearranging a line of barrels.
  
  
    "Metaliths can't be overloaded by just pulling on 'em. Chains or no chains."
    said Oiler Tunn, deckhand. 
  
  
    "Which I weren't saying they could, I said overloaded, but I meant
    thaumaturgically." said Double Barrel, deckhand.
  
  
    "That would take a deal of power, and no mistake. Likely more than is
    possible to gather at short notice, in a place such as where we are." said
    Mr Sludga, deckboss.
  
  
    The other two orruk pirates looked up at Sludga in surprise. He didn't
    usually offer an opinion in their discussions of sorcery, conjuring,
    abduration or enchantment. They were impressed.
  
  
    "We've still got the Dead Man's Chest aboard." said Double Barrel "There are
    about 55 kilothaums left after that business with the Oubliette."
  
  
    "More like 15!" said Ledger Nud without looking up from his book. "Himself
    used over 35 to open the door on the way out. Very nearly broke his staff
    with the feedback overload."
  
  
    "Oh." said Double Barrel, deflated.
  
  
    "What about Draketooth's plan? Do ya think we'll be getting all a-tangled up
    with that?" he said, turning to Mr Sludga again.
  
  
    "The Kap'n ain't keen on it. After all, he don't want to look like he's
    running after them Umbral Corsairs like some trained dog. They made it clear
    a-last time we met that they ain't at all happy we're here. Especially
    herself." said Sludga, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
  
  
    "Then how about subterfuge? Like, sneak into the castle all quiet-like and
    see what mischief can be achieved." said Tunn.
  
  
    Sludga just nodded. He wasn’t sure strolling into a vampire's fortress blind
    was a great idea but he couldn't be bothered to argue with Tunn. Not without
    a drink first, at any rate. And he had a horrible feeling Tunn was right
    too.
  
  ~ ⦽ ~
  
    Kaptain Mogrum had his own thoughts on the matter but he wasn't going to
    share them with the crew just yet. Not when so much depended on his luck and
    the mistakes of others. But then, all his best plans did. He chuckled to
    himself (the helmsman glanced at him nervously, out of the corner of his
    eye). 
  
  
    After all was said and done, he and the crew had more experience dealing
    with the undead than almost anything else.
  
  ~ ⦽ ~
  
    "This place feels weirdly familiar..." muttered Sludga, under his breath.
  
  




 
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