New home

After two long weeks of travel, Torghan finally stood on solid ground once more. The journey had been a grueling one—one and a half weeks spent at sea, and the rest navigating the land toward their new home. He had never thought he would be so grateful to feel dirt beneath his feet again.

The sea voyage had nearly driven half of them mad. The first few hours had been tolerable—uneasy but tolerable. Then, like a creeping sickness, paranoia took hold. It started with whispers—old warriors muttering under their breath, clutching at their amulets, their eyes darting to the endless waves as if expecting vengeful spirits to rise from the depths.

And then, the vomiting started.

What began as a handful of seasick men quickly spread like a plague. Grown warriors, the same men who had taken heads in battle without flinching, now lay curled up on the deck groaning in agony, puking their guts out.

Some accused the outsiders of tricking them with cursed waters.