The Calm before the Storm

You can taste it in the air and feel it in the way your legs itch. The Sea of Mists appears calm, and around midday Sundered Sunlight filters through the thinning clouds.

But the tranquillity is treacherous. You can sense it.

{if Connected: The Almost Archaeologist = 1}The Almost Archaeologist does too. She doesn’t have the Sea legs or the words, but her mood changed with yours, and your conversations circle around your shared and growing dread. {endif}

As does the Crew. They are quiet, focused and on edge. One sings a shanty, his voice growing raspy from single-minded determination. Others shake their heads and mutter, unwilling to complain louder and loath to join.

The night does not bring any dreams and little sleep, leaving you to toss and turn in the sweat-soaked sheets. You wake with leaden limbs and a feeling of overwhelming anticipation.