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Previously... "But where are we headed, Capt'n?" One of his men squealed anxiously. "Toward the voices." Court grimaced, looking above. They followed his gaze like marionettes to the dizzying heights above, shrouded in cloud and gloom. It looked as if rain might fall, or lightning might suddenly explode over them. It looks just as it did when I last fled these ruins, Court noted. Then he began walking the beach, heading towards a tremendous dark crack in the cliffs. The beach itself was scattered with debris, and relics from a hundred years of war at sea. There were bottles and bones half buried in the wet, dark sands. There were pieces of ships tangled in seaweed, and rusted bits of their cannons and rigging. One of the men caught sight of a tattered black cloak like the one Court was wearing, a pale white skeleton arm dangling from its shredded folds. “The Garai.” One of the rowers nodded with a whisper at the corpse. ...

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