The Basal Lake - Out of the Boiling Pot

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The island had no name, and where it appeared at all on naval maps, it was easily brushed off as an errant drop of ink. A jutting spire of rock, the peak of some long-sunken mountain, made up most of the tiny island, with a small lagoon cradled in crescent arms of stone. Thin patches of palms grew in the sand around the sheltered water where the life boats and wreckage from the Arsenic had ended up.

For three days and nights, the survivors tried to piece together what had actually happened and what to do next. Horan, one of the experienced crew members, did his best to explain, but for many, the idea of the wild magics he described were unheard of. A spell which could command the actions of another, from halfway around the world? There was no such power taught in any of the schools of the Vis. The power to summon massive storms that could destroy a masterfully engineered vessel, to chase that vessel like a hound to a fox... "More likely a traitor," one man argued. "There were whispers of sabotage before we'd even boarded the ship."

The suspicions lingered there, taunting, poking. With everyone on edge, cooperation was in short supply, along with all the traditional supplies. A small group, led by the demvir investigator, spent the days salvaging equipment. Thanks to the relative tirelessness of his machina body, Laermont worked through the blistering heat of the day and through the night, ripping machines apart, lashing pieces together, grinding gears and regia until they meshed.

Early into the fourth morning, the demvir and a handful of the others looked at the makeshift beacon. It was a box, of sorts, with a ramshackle and wobbling antenna affixed with some kind of bulb near the top. Looking to the others, the machina finally nodded and jammed the last wire into a box with a cracked rod of dahlitium inside.

Immediately, the group felt a pulse of energy pass through them. There was no sound, but it was definitely there. The light at the end of the antenna blinked, barely visible in the sunlight. The machine pulsed again a few seconds later, starting up a regular pattern. Leaves and sand rippled with each pulse.

"Now... we wait," the investigator said after several long moments. Despite being mechanical, himself, he was no expert, and had no way of knowing just how far the signal would reach, if anyone would pick it up. The alternative, doing nothing, wasn't even an option, though.

They didn't have to wait long. Through a combination of the dying efforts of the Arsenic's helmsman and the timely tip-off from an outpost far to the south, ships were already in the area. Ships equipped with radar picked up on the mysterious blips and changed course. Two arrived by mid-day: the first was an imperial cruiser, the Orca, shaped like its namesake; the second was a merchant vessel, bound from Prendere to Terminus, the White Wind. Within a few hours, the survivors on the island and in the surrounding waters had been rescued.

Gathered together on the upper deck of the Orca, together with some of the White Wind's crew, the survivors now had a choice to face.

"I have to commend you, all of you, for enduring and surviving. We never expected that you would be put to the test before even reaching the battlegrounds. However, while you have survived this battle, there is still a war to be fought. The Orca is bound southward, toward Cautes Petram to destroy the ophidian presence in Flumen. It's a lot to ask after what you've just gone through, but will you join us, lend us your strength?" The captain speaking was younger than Garus, with orange skin a few shades lighter, and no obvious scars. He held the same no-nonsense attitude, without as much bite to his words. Driweus was experienced but not yet hardened.

"Those of you who'd rather leave, I've room aboard my ship. No charge, no strings, I'll get you back to Terminus. Or at least as far as Avelyn. Despite the name, she's not much good out of the water." The captain of the White Wind was a tall laicar woman with black hair turning to grey. Her skin was wrinkled and tough after years in the sun and salty air. She had a warm smile, though, matched by the bright yellow silk scarf covering her drab gray naval uniform. "Castus only knows how I'd choose, if I were in your shoes."

While the two captains spoke, members of the imperial navy were passing out rations and fresh water. The lieutenant had pulled some aside to press for more details on the attack.

"Well, what's your decision? Will you continue on? Or return?"


[800/800]

Captain Driweus bent down to lay a hand on Gwen's shoulder. "We're glad to have you with us," he told her. Then he raised his voice to address the others. "We're glad to have all of you. Even if the top brass are reluctant to accept aid, I've been on the frontlines and I can tell you that we need every strong arm and sharp mind we can get.

"To those of you choosing to return home, I can only wish you the best. You are the reason we fight. Live a good life, keep your loved ones safe, and I'll be satisfied."

It was an altogether different perspective from Garus, who had distrusted the surface-walkers from the start. Which one of them represented the average Pelagian, and which was the outlier?

There was little more to be said. The survivors of the Arsenic were mostly kept to medical bays and meal halls for the next few days in order to regain their strength, provided with plentiful fresh water and the freshest rations the military ship could provide. The few volunteers that had jumped ships from the White Wind, meanwhile, were given a full breakdown of the situation, the plan, and rudimentary training in velen formations and battle commands. Such things had been covered with the earlier volunteers, but some of them joined in the strategy meetings anyway, hoping to get a clearer picture from a crew that wasn't as hostile to them.

Driweus kept his crew on high alert, watching for signs of unnatural storms above or below the water. Quietly, he conceded to his lieutenant on the last day of their voyage, "Garus had his ways, but I think he must have found the naga's proxy in the end, even if it cost him his life. I was worried they might have been among the Blue Crew, but if so, we would have seen trouble before getting this far." 'Blue Crew' was a name given to the survivors, a bit of dark humor lost on most of them. The lieutenant, a wiry, black-skinned velen with bright yellow scales, only nodded his agreement.

They had reached Cautes Petram.

Night had fallen and the Orca relied on the experience with the esoteric array of technology at the helm to guide the ship through blackened waters. Cautes Petram and Flumen Petram were sister cities, a type of arrangement known as Bae-Murdat among the velen. In a Bae-Murdat, a city underwater and a city on the shore would have dedicated connections, both physically and organization-wise. Flumen Petram was a small trade hub between the Basal Lake, caravans coming south from the Aridusian deserts, and merchants coming north from the jungled labyrinths of Paludis. Cautes Petram, meanwhile, orchestrated trades with deeper settlements in the Copiae, some even going to Pelagia itself. Both prided themselves on fishing, with Flumen covering the upper waters and Cautes the deeper, trading and sharing their different specialties.

In this particular Bae-Murdat, a pair of sealed and lighted tunnels bridged the twelve kilometers between the two cities. One tunnel had a dedicated tram system, used for shuttling goods back and forth, while the other was open and designed for people to travel between the cities.

Shortly before the Arsenic left Avelyn, Flumen Petram was overrun by the ophidians. Most of the citizens were able to evacuate through the tunnels to Cautes Petram. The tunnels were collapsed just a kilometer from shore to prevent ophidians from chasing the civilians down. Several hundred Pelagians gave their lives to hold off the enemy forces and ensure the peoples' survival. The original plan had been to bring the Terminus reinforcements to Flumen Petram and from there attack the ophidian forces, but now they were instead bringing them to Cautes Petram, to plan a counterattack to reclaim Flumen.

"Welcome to Cautes Petram," one of the crew members announced as the Orca slipped into a tunnel that only the helmsman could see in the darkness. Following the announcement, the sub passed around a sharp bend, and there the underwater city was, lit up before them in green and blue. The city was built right into the ocean floor, with districts laid out like a clam shell, with the tunnels connecting to the smaller end.

Near that side of the city, there were thousands of smaller lights, some of them white or yellow. "Refugees?" the lieutenant mused as he looked at them. "There's so many…."

"That's a good thing," Driweus pointed out. "But it also means we can't delay."

[750/1550]

There was little to be said as the crew and passengers of the Orca entered the city. Despite the dire situation, though, the sight of more of the empire's finest brought a cheer to the uprooted citizens from Flumen, together with the brave souls from above the waves that came with them. They represented the hope of a return to normalcy.

The survivors who had been plucked from the waves had been tended to carefully, but it was no pleasure cruise. Surrounded by the evidence of the war and its casualties, they understood why. Captain Driweus led his contingent to a trio of warehouses that had been converted into the de facto base for military operations. Five other subs and their crews had already gathered. The Orca was the last to arrive; the Arsenic was to have been the seventh. As the most senior of the seven ships, losing Garus, Libra, and half of the original crew was a devastating blow.

"All of you, take what rest you can. Tonight, I will meet with the other captains to discuss what our strategy is. Be ready: we might engage with the enemy as soon as tonight, though I hope it doesn't come to that." With that, Driweus left the men and women to their own devices.

---

It was difficult for those who had never visited a velen city to tell the time of day through the deep blue of the ocean overhead. The waters stretched over them like the sky, sometimes lit from within by flitting jellyfish, streams of faint sunlight filtering through the waters while the lights of the city danced in reflections. Schools of fish swam by, scales glittering for the briefest of moments before they darted away into shadows. Turtles floated alongside the bubble encasing Cautes Petram, and even a giant squid made an appearance, barely a silhouette in the distance.

It was calming, a welcome counter to the mounting pressure.

Velen clocks showed it to be well past midnight by the time Captain Driweus returned, haggard and pale. "It's decided," he announced as people rolled out of cots and gathered around. "We begin the counterattack at mid-day."

[360/1412]

A small group of burly men had approached Amanita while she was directing the disbursement, four velen and two laicar. By their sun-kissed skin and the luster of their scales, it was clear that they were refugees from the sister city, likely fishermen or dock workers. A blonde-haired man with a tribal tattoo on his face and one with emerald scales stepped forward. "No worries, little lady. Petram's our home, ain't no one going to hold you up." He flashed a smile, missing some teeth but seemingly sincere.

The velen nodded and offered, "Put us to work. We've got old Bas sorting people out, figuring out who's got kids and old folks, who's got sick and injured. They're the ones who'll need stuff most. From what I hear, you all are going to be facing some long odds for our sakes, wouldn't be right if we just sat back and let you do everything."

"If you're willing to bleed for us, we're willing to sweat for you," the first man said. "Name's Yorah." The other men with them nodded and stepped forward to help the soldiers with handling the boxes. Before Yorah went to join them, he scratched at a conspicuous scar over one eyebrow. "I know I'm no help in a fight, but I've been hauling nets and moving crates since I was half your size."

Sal nodded and then the pair joined the others. Soon, other refugees had also come forward, the able-bodied among them eager to play a part, even if it was a small one. Bas showed up not long after, an older laicar man with short-cropped dark hair and dark eyes, worry lines creased into his forehead. He was a bartender before things turned upside-down, good with people and good with numbers. In his hands, he held a notepad, stuffed with notes on the refugees, their conditions and needs. He brought them over to Amanita, and in between profusely thanking her and the soldiers for all their aid, he turned to her expertise in figuring out the most efficient and most critical use of the inventory.

Driweus shook his head in response to the demvir's questioning. "Unfortunately, our intel is very limited. I'll share all that I have, though." The captain led the way over to a long table, with the higher-ranking members of his crew and Laermont, among others, following along. The captain pulled out a map and unfurled it, laying down metal bars to hold the edges down.


"This is Flumen Petram. It's a coastal city coming right up to the ocean, located west-northwest from Cautes Petram. There were tunnels connecting the two, but those were sealed during the exodus from the city. We don't have the ability to reopen those tunnels in any quick fashion -- it will take months of work to restore them to working order, after the naga threat has been eradicated.

"We have six submersible ships. Our current plan, barring any dramatic changes, is for two ships to come straight into the center of the city. Another one will disembark in the north, one in the south, and the final two will hang back in the south, near these five small land masses." They were too big to call sandbars, but too small to call islands. "We will have comms officers connected by voxes, and the two remaining ships will reinforce the areas needed most.

"We know there's a heavy presence of naga. Per survivor reports, they are entirely or almost entirely red-scale naga from the southwestern Tenebrae -- which makes sense logistically. Unfortunately, they are the deadliest of the naga tribes. Normally we would hold an advantage due to the limited ingress points into the Basal Lake, but they've already come past that. Given Flumen Petram's layout, it's likely that we'll be at risk of being flanked and surrounded. Naga are slower on land, but we shouldn't expect that to give us much of an edge. By this point, they've held Flumen Petram long enough that they may be acclimated to the dry air, and if it hasn't driven them back underwater, it will surely have made them more irritable.

"The northern half of the city rises upward in tiers while the southern half remains relatively flat. I would expect the majority of our enemy forces to be concentrated in the southern parts of the city, given better access to the waterways, but any captains or high-ranking officers, with appropriate entourage, could be using the upper tiers of the northern city for a base of operations. This would give them a good vantage point to see our initial movements, which is why we're staging a three-pronged landing simultaneously.

"A tidal river flows through the city and out to the northwest. Except during times of unusual drought -- which we need not concern ourselves with right now -- this saltwater river connects the Basal Lake in the west to the Copiae Ocean here. During low tides, the river is rather low. Our goal is to attack late in low tide, to pressure the naga forces while the waters are low, put their backs against the wall as it were. Then, as the high tide comes in, we're hoping they'll make the tactical decision to retreat.

"Unfortunately, our biggest problem is that we don't know much about our enemy's capabilities. We know that they've seemingly trained their youngest warriors as berserkers. During the initial attack on Flumen Petram, these berserkers led the charge bolstered by shamanistic storm magic. If their numbers are overwhelming, and if enough of them are frenzied as during the initial invasion, we may have no option but to retreat. The plan hinges on being able to push them back through force and intimidation. Barring that, we'd need to get lucky and identify their leadership. Cutting the head off the snake will steal away their will to fight. Naga, particularly the red-scales, are swift and decisive with military decisions except with regard to a collapsing chain of command.

"There may be a shaman leading them, or a warlord. Possibly both. Locating and defeating the leader or leaders is the swiftest path to victory, but also one we're wholly unprepared for. Scouts can't even get close enough to estimate overall numbers, much less the definitive layout of the enemy forces."

Driweus gestured to the northwest of the city. "If we can force a retreat, we can dam the river. It's high-salinity water, useless for drinking or irrigation, so this won't negatively impact the city, but it will help prevent the naga from returning. Without a water-based route, they'd be forced to cross this stretch of desert between the Basal Lake and the city. If they're determined enough to try it, it might be possible with their wild magics, but we can expect our enemies to be greatly weakened.

"Those of you who came here from Terminus, you will be staying with my ship. We'll be leading the charge in the north. With you, we have the largest contingent of surfacers, best suited to the drier air and higher elevations. Also, this will be a less coordinated effort, as we'll be attempting to search for our priority targets while dealing with any standing enemies; therefore, less military rigor is required. You all have commendable bravery and I have no doubt in your combat abilities, but you have not been trained in the imperial formations, attack patterns, and the like. Therefore it makes sense to bring you into the area where improvisation and personal combat skills are more vital than unit cohesion."

[1263/2675]

To the younger woman, Driweus nodded. "Yes, we have additional maps, although not consolidated like this one, at least not in as great detail." The velen reached into a satchel on his belt, withdrawing several folders. He handed the first over to Gwen; inside, there were fifteen smaller maps, showing individual sectors of Flumen Petram. All together they would cover the entire city, and were labeled in the margins so that they could be arranged appropriately. "In particular, focus your attentions on C2 and C3, where we'll be landing and making our initial push. From there we will be climbing into the B2 to B3 sectors. If we make it that far, A3 will be our last zone to cover. The other ships will be handling sectors further south, and we will avoid pursuing naga into the open land past the city proper. Open land will leave opportunities to get surrounded by berserkers. I'd prefer having the chance to funnel them down roads or alleyways, or to escape into surrounding buildings."

The other folders full of maps, Driweus placed on the table with an unspoken invite for interested parties to take them. Compared to Captain Garus, Driweus was remarkably forthcoming and trusted in the capabilities of the men and women joining the venture. It also underscored how dangerous the mission was going to be: the captain was making sure they had every advantage possible.

"On the docks, there are three warehouses and behind them, a lighthouse. That will be the first elevated position. If you're planning to act as a spotter or sniper, you should be prepared to abandon the lighthouse once we move further into the city. The northern docks are where the city's fishing vessels make port, and this entire part of the city is composed of warehouses, office buildings, and assorted workshops for processing the catches and creating or repairing tools. There are small canals surrounding the area, used for transporting heavy cargo to other areas of the city. The next elevated position is at the intersection of these canals, here." Driweus tapped on the outline of a diamond-shaped building almost due west of the lighthouse. On the map, the path between the two seemed clear enough, but it would be going uphill with enemies blocking the way. "In-between these two points, there's no good elevated locations to hold, but it might be possible, if you could get onto the roof here… you might be able to traverse roof to roof. The buildings aren't equally tall, though. You'd need to be prepared to climb up or jump down as needed.

"If you can pull it off, that will give us much needed support heading westward. The path north, northwest might be more difficult, however, and we'll need to cover both avenues."

[465/3140]