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# Waverider Expedition - Morvelyn

The escape

The Waverider moored in the grey harbor of Morvelyn beneath a sky that never seemed to clear. The air carried a sour tang of mildew and ashes, the ghost of a city that had never quite recovered from the plague. Solonex stood at the bow long after the ropes were tied, staring at the shoreline.

"This was home," he said quietly.

The others followed him through narrow streets lined with crumbling stone houses. Ivy and moss clung to the walls like scars, and the few faces they passed were hollow-eyed, pale from years of fear and hunger, and twisted by the plague. What had once been the beacon of civilization now looked half-consumed by its own roots.

They found the man at the old square. Or rather, what was left of him. Darven, once a sailor like Solonex, once young and broad and laughing, sat by a broken fountain. His body was twisted by the plague's legacy: a hunched back, fingers curled like claws, one arm a thick, fingerless trunk. But when he heard his name, he smiled.

"Solonex Virellus," he croaked. "I thought you'd died like the rest of us."

The two men clasped arms. The gesture was awkward, their eyes saying more than words could carry. They spoke a while of old voyages, of the ships they'd sailed, of names long gone. Selene stood back, her gaze soft, watching the captain's jaw tighten with every memory.

Then the shouting started.

A crowd was gathering near the square's edge. Four druids in grey cloaks dragged a young woman through the mud, her wrists bound with cords. Her hair was wild, her mouth bloody from biting at her gag. She kicked and fought, screaming words the wind shredded.

Darven didn't even look alarmed. "A cleansing," he said. "They sacrifice the a clean youth every full moon. Keeps the sickness from coming back."

Solonex turned slowly. "She's done nothing wrong."

"It doesn't matter," Darven replied. "They say the forest takes the sin with the body, that the blood cleans the water. It's the only way-"

"Stop."

The word came out like iron scraping stone.

When the druids raised their heads, Solonex's eyes were black with rage. "This is not Morvelyn!" he shouted, voice breaking through the crowd like thunder.

He was already moving before anyone could stop him. His fist hit the first druid square in the jaw, sending him sprawling. The crowd screamed. Arven and Decimus was beside him a heartbeat later, swinging at the druids. Venera drew her blade, cutting through the cords on the woman's wrists.

The crowd protested, half in terror, half in anger.

By the time the town guards arrived, the druids were down and the square was chaos. Phaedros shouted for retreat, and the crew ran, through alleys slick with moss, past broken windows and faces that watched but did not help. The woman stumbled but kept pace, clutching at Solonex's coat.

They reached the docks under a sky gone black with storm. The Waverider loomed ahead like salvation. As they clambered aboard, arrows hissed through the rain, splintering against the hull.

"Cast off!" Venera shouted.

The ship pulled free, sails cracking in the wind. On the quay, the druids shouted curses into the storm, their torches flaring and dying in the rain.

The woman collapsed on the deck, shaking. Solonex knelt beside her, his breath ragged.

"We'll put you ashore," he said softly, "at the first friendly port."

She nodded without looking up. The rain washed the blood from her hands, running red into the sea.

Behind them, the coastline of Morvelyn faded into darkness, its lights flickering like dying embers.

Solonex stood at the rail until it was gone.

He did not speak again that night.

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