The next island was just as populated as the last one, only this time the ships were much better guarded. With built docks, the entire activity of the substantial settlement on the shores was ready and able to get to their boats quickly.

"Looks like no ambush," Marco said. "I suppose we could still get a few of them before the others got out."

"We can't anyway, Marco. Those aren't pirates," Elisa stated. “We can’t just fire on them.”

"They are friendly?"

"I didn't say that." Elisa took the spyglass and looked. "They just aren't pirates, or aren't marked that way. These are just… you know, ships. Could be any kind. There's no reason to think they are bad."

"Well, there's some that are bad," Marco said. "There's a plinth on that island, for sure. I can feel it."

"And it could be hidden. Or they might not even know what it is. Like I said, we can't just blast them."

"Then what?" Marco said. "We can't take all of them with some advantage."

"We get closer," Aethe said. "We are stronger now. Nobody is going to be that eager to chase us once they see what Elisa's big crossbow thing can do. We'll get close and then see what we can see. After that, we can think about after that."

Marco steered the ship in slowly. He wanted every bit of warning he could get if it came down to it, every chance to veer early enough to prevent problems. It turned out they didn't need it.

"Ahoy there," a man shouted from the dock as they got close. "What brings you?"

"Just… checking it out?" Marco yelled back. "We've never been here before. What is it?"

"Just a resting area. We have good water, and people sell excess supplies. Not much more than that, unless you want to stretch your legs in a safe place."

"You know what? That sounds nice," Marco said. "We'll cast anchor and bring our boat in."

As the outboat materialized, the team gathered together.

“Just play it cool,” Marco said. “We won’t do anything. We’ll check out the town, just like we said. If we find it, when we find it, we decide what to do together before we do anything. Got it?”

Everyone got it.

The dock creaked beneath their boots as Marco led the way down the gangplank. The air was thick with the smell of brine, smoke, and canvas. The town spread before them, mostly comprised rows of tents and hastily constructed stalls broken up here and there by shoddy sheds and bunkhouses.

Riv let out a low whistle.

“There's more here than I thought there would be. It's like it can't decide if it wants to be permanent or not.”

Elisa adjusted the strap of her satchel and nodded.

“Even transient places grow roots eventually. People can’t help but let things accumulate. Someone leaves a barrel somewhere, then adds a crate. Then they build a shack to hold it all and a bunk to watch the shack from. Eventually it gets to be a lot like this. Give it another year or two and someone will be calling this a town. They'll name it. That's how new places come to be.”

Aethe walked a half-step behind Marco, silent but alert. Marco sometimes wondered how that looked to outsiders. He was probably a bit less worried about her guarding demeanor than some of the passers-by, given that he knew it would take actual danger to his party to trigger any action from her. He was probably more worried in another way, given what he knew about what she'd do if someone actually triggered it.

Marco slowed their pace. “We keep our eyes open. Don’t get drawn in by any one thing. We’re looking for signs of that plinth and nothing else.”

"Are you getting anything from your skill?" Elisa looked dismayed by the hodgepodge of buildings, awnings, and meeting areas around them. "Any guidance?"

“Not yet.”

They threaded between food stalls where dried fish hung and simple breads baked. If things were still friendly with the town once they had finished with their work, he hoped he could get some of that food both for lunch and for their dinner that night.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Outhouses stood a respectful distance from the main rows, built of sturdy wood and positioned for privacy. Several open-air canopies provided shaded eating spaces, filled with tables and big communal benches for sailors wolfing down midday meals.

The crew paused near one of those canopies. A man ladled stew from an iron pot into wooden bowls, barely looking up as coins clinked into a bowl near his cooking setup. He was making a fair amount of coin and didn't even have a stall.

“You think anyone here even knows who runs this place?” Riv asked. "Do you think there's even someone in charge?"

“Someone always runs something this big,” Elisa said. “But it might not be obvious to us or even them. It could be a single organizer, a coalition, or just the strongest captain and crew making decisions when they have to. But someone has to have the final word.”

Marco let his eyes linger on the older buildings at the edge of the encampment. Unlike the tents, those few structures had squared beams, weathered walls, and shingled roofs. They looked like they were from an older period of building, but they were far from ancient. Unlike the rest of the town, it was entirely possible they were already up when Quill left the lumberjacks to set all this up.

“That’s where we’re headed, I think.”

They passed more vendors as they walked farther inland, but eventually some of the activity thinned, and it seemed they were moving towards a more residential area. The canvas gave way to better-packed dirt, and fewer people lingered at any given spot. When they reached the cluster of older buildings, the change in atmosphere was immediate and even more intense. There was little activity here at all, and Marco's plinth sense was going crazy for once.

The building it indicated stood a little apart from the others. It looked a bit older, if anything, and was definitively smaller. A small, faded sign hung above the threshold, unreadable by human eyes. This had been something more official, once, and now it was just the source of an almost sure feeling they had found their target.

Marco let the sense wash over him one more time to be sure. He was. “This is it. We'll check inside.”

"You're sure?" Aethe asked. "I don't think there's anyone around to see us, but it's broad daylight."

"Like you said, there's nobody around to see us. This is our best shot."

They approached. Riv put his hands on the handle, pushed, and found the door was either locked or stuck. He pushed again, harder. The door cracked, then swung open.

It wasn't a sight that hit them first. It was a sickening feeling, faint but terrible. It surged from the door as soon as they got it open. In the split second it took their eyes to adjust to the dark, they had plenty of time to get acquainted with it. The air was almost humming with energy, energy Marco felt sure wasn't compatible with any class or skill. This just felt confused, wrong in some way he'd never be able to define.

The sight of it was only a touch less bizarre. The plinth was there to see, right out in the open. So was a lot of other stuff. There were runed stones arranged on the ground and walls around it, seven of them in total, arranged in a pattern that might or might not have been significant. They surged with power occasionally, but almost randomly. Marco wasn't sure there was a pattern to it at all. The plinth itself was covered in metal cable, ropes, and painted here and there with even more runes. It buzzed in his senses uncomfortably, like whatever interface it normally had with his temple-granted skills was thrown off kilter by whatever these objects were doing to it.

"Let me bash it," Riv said. "One hit. I promise."

"No. Not yet." Elisa said. "We don't have any idea what all this is doing to it. It might cause something unexpected."

“Oh, it's causing something unexpected either way.” A voice rang out from outside the building, stern and just a little angry. "They are here, boss. It's like you said. As soon as they got off the boat, they made a beeline here."

"Is that true?" another voice asked. As Marco and his crew cautiously exited the building, they saw a team of ten or so people emerging from around buildings and inside tents in the area. There were more than a few captains among them, and Marco didn't like the position they were in if it came down to an actual battle. "You knew exactly? How?"

"I can't say," Marco said. "I guess I just got lucky looking for interesting things."

The man's face twisted in frustration.

"Wrong thing to say. I was hoping you'd just be honest and we wouldn't have to squeeze it out of you. Looks like we're squeezing. Boys?" The big group of men tensed. "Get them."

Marco's crew drew closer to each other and moved their hands towards their weapons. There was no way out of a fight now, as little as they wanted it. Worse, more people were gathering every second. Their best chance would be to fight their way back to the boat, but Marco could hardly imagine doing that successfully here.

"Wait." A voice Marco recognized but couldn't place sounded in the space as a form moved from the back of the growing pack of enemies. "Towe. Wait."

"Sorry, Captain," the man said that last bit like a title, but not as someone saying it to someone who really had authority over them. It was like a peer addressing another peer, rather than otherwise. "They were fully in the room with the magic rock. They were going to do something to it. Knew right where it was. I know you don't like fighting much, but we don't know who these people are."

"You don't." The captain finally moved the last of the people between him and the front out of his way. "I do. They saved my life and didn't ask for anything for it."

"These are them?" The captain named Towe raised his eyebrows. "These handled something you couldn't?"

"They did. And whatever you think is going to happen here, they won’t go down without a fight. A good, hard fight."

"I don't believe you."

"Ask Beggins, then. You know she has a sense for that kind of thing."

Towe's eyes scanned the crowd until he found a particular face in it. Marco tracked his eyes to the face that served as their target and saw a scout-type build much like Aethe's wrapped around a tall, ropey blonde woman. She took in Marco and his crew, set her jaw, and shook her head.

"Pretty even match for what we have here. Of course, not all of us have decided to fight. But any five of us alone, they'd cut through like rotted fruit. No question," she spat.