WITH A GRACE belying its size, the Stone Dragon slid into place alongside the longest of the piers in Crossroads’ harbor with the aid of magic users trained to maneuver the massive ships in the chaotic port. As the motley crew, composed of a myriad of races common and uncommon, tossed ropes to the dock hands to secure the vessel, the dwarven helmsman locked the wheel in place and stomped into the navigation room.

“So, what in the bleeding hells are we doing back here, Captain?” the dwarf demanded of the ogre bent over a thick book and papers spread out on the map table. “You know the boys and girls get restless if they don’t get to play a bit and this is one of the few ports we don’t take liberties at.” He crossed his arms with a harrumph. “We need a few safe harbors, Simpkins.”

The ogre mage made a few notes before straightening up. “I’m well aware, Baldar. But Elyssia’s vision has always been true and when a high elven woman becomes distraught over her visions when we don’t heed them, I figure it’s better a few days back in port than a lifetime on the bottom of the ocean.”

“Bah. Seers. Though I suppose you’re right about distraught high elves. Didn’t know anything ever flustered her, old as she is.” He unfolded his arms and moved to stand on the low step that let him stand at the map table and lean forward on it. “But you can’t keep putting the crew off, lad. They are loyal so long as you let them off their leash ever few years or so and it’s been nearly five since that fool quest of yours.”

“You mean the ‘fool quest’ that netted us more money than we’d have made in that time?” the ogre asked in droll tones as he bent back over the papers.

“Damnit, Simpkins, you know it ain’t about the money! They don’t fargin need money. Excepting the handful of mages who keep the Stone Dragon whole and hale, ain’t a one that has family outside of this floating rock. They’re loyal, but you’re pushing their limits. And half of them can’t enjoy the brothels because they don’t cater to their races’ particular needs here.”

Slamming his fists on the table, Simpkins stood to his full eight foot height. Despite towering over the dwarf no taller than five feet, Baldar was undaunted by his captain’s irritation. “My job is to keep the crew alive and the ship afloat, Baldar. I took an oath to that when I accepted the mantle of captain. Would you trust me to let me do it?”

“You know what will happen if—” The helmsman’s words were cut off by a loud rapping on the door. “What?!” he bellowed irritably. A man with four arms and an array of weapons about his body peeked in the door. “What is it, Ronin?”

“You need to come see this, Captain. The boys are about to fall off the side of the ship in a swoon.” Despite the dire meaning of the words, the ship’s weapons master sounded more amused than concerned.

Both captain and helmsman paused in shock to see the crew lining the port side of the ship, the shorter members climbing the ropes to look over their taller shipmates. The running commentary only added to the pair’s bewilderment. “I don’t believe it. Is it really her?” “Haven’t seen her in years, but there’s no mistaking it. It’s how she carries herself, see.” “Halley’s tits, she is gorgeous.” “Bet I could beat her for a tumble.” “You couldn’t take her in a fight if she’d both hands and a foot tied behind her back,” was followed by a loud smack and howl of pain. “I heard she was dead.” “Bah. Knew nothing could keep that one down.” “What’s with the giant cat, though?”

Simpkins’s scowled. “What the hell is going on? Move, you louts!” he bellowed, smacking the back of one of the minotaurs’ heads to speed things along. The muscular being barely noticed, chuffing with amusement at the ogre’s irritation. The crew laughed as they obliged their captain, clearing a way to the railing.

Four people stood on the dock by the ship. Gareth Tavarius’s grin reflected his vast amusement at the ogre’s shifting expression. Ky-Lar sat by a handsome, muscular man he did not recognize. In front of them with her arms crossed and gold eyes flashing in the sun was, “Tiwaz?” Simpkins’ scowl evaporated into shock, then delighted surprise. “What the hell are you doing here? And where’s your partner in crime?” The unknown man laughed heartily, more when Gareth punched him in the shoulder.

“I don’t have time for pretty chitchat, magic user. Just let us on your ship,” Tiwaz returned acerbically.

Simpkins did not even have time to open his mouth when his crew all but fell over themselves to lower the gangplank for her. “Well, that answers why Elyssia wanted us to come back here so urgently. I keep forgetting she’s a devotee of the Dragonway gods.” He glanced down at Baldar, feeling the dwarf’s glare. “That temple I found during my fool’s quest? Belonged to them.”

“Yeah? Huh.” Baldar watched as the crew respectfully made a path, allowing Ky-Lar and Tiwaz to step onto the deck. The crew ignored and forgot about the two men following the pair as they surrounded Tiwaz, males and females alike fawning over the gladiator. “Well, suppose I can forgive you then. Never seen them act like excitable noble girls near an eligible prince over anyone. Remember when we had that little ‘princess’ on board?”

Simpkins snorted as he walked over to meet Gareth as the bard came up to the navigation deck. “They just liked tormenting her. If she’d held her nose up any higher in the air, she’d have drowned in a driving rain.” The two men clasped hands. “Welcome aboard, Bard. Never thought I’d see Tiwaz without Doom by her side.”

The muscular man chuckled from behind Gareth as the bard glanced over his shoulder at him in amusement. “She isn’t,” Doom rumbled in his familiar voice. Baldar laughed heartily at Simpkin’s drop-jawed expression. The disguised gromek shrugged. “I learned a few tricks while you were gone.” He looked towards the city. “However, the sooner we’re away from shore, the sooner I can shed this façade.” He rolled his shoulders. “I feel cramped.”

“We just got into port. Quite literally, in fact. We should probably take the opportunity to get our supplies topped off, especially since it’s obvious you four plan on staying on board,” Simpkins stated drolly.

Baldar laughed at Gareth and Doom’s expressions when they looked over towards Tiwaz. “I’ll go send Chen to get supplies and you boys go chat. Even if you could convince the woman to leave, the crew might mutiny.” He explained to the pair, “One thing the crew loves as much as a good fight is watching someone else fight a good fight, and your girl there had many of them dreaming of meeting her.”

Doom looked troubled. “Ah, Tiwaz is not exactly—”

The dwarf made a sound, waving off the thought before it was spoken. “Gods, no. Girl is a celebrity. Hells, one of the gods could step on deck and they’d not act like children seeing their hero come to life like they are now. If she’d agree to a wrestling match with Ronin Dar, they’d probably be over the moons.”

Simpkins pointed to the man a head taller than the tallest sailor. “Him there, tall guy with the four arms. He’s the ship’s senior man-at-arms. Best physical fighter aboard.”

Gareth and Doom considered him and said in unison, “She could take him.”

Simpkins grinned, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Ronin! Two gold says you can’t out-wrestle her!” The crew went silent, looking between Tiwaz and Ronin. The man barked laughter at the idea, then looked astonished when Tiwaz was slipping off her backpack and weapon belts to hand to Ky-Lar. The crew cheered and whooped, a flurry of odds, bets, and taunts to each other ensuing.

“She doesn’t fight fair,” Doom pointed out.

“Neither does he,” Simpkins replied, waving the pair to the navigation room. “It’ll keep the crew’s attention while Chen gets supplies and we talk. When it’s high tide in a few hours, we’ll set out again.”