Raised above the level of the deck, the poop was accessible by two ladders, one on either side of the ship, and flanking a simple wooden door that Lucius knew gave access to the lower decks and the captain's own quarters. Mounting the first two rungs of a ladder, he poked his head over the lip of the poop, and scanned the area.
The wheel lay before him, lashed tightly as part of the precautions to keep the Voyager steady while berthed in the dangerous harbour. Two large siege crossbows were mounted to either side behind large purpose-built shields, perhaps intended to keep the ship safe from the pirates and corsairs Lucius had heard roamed the straits between the peninsula and the Sarcre Islands. He could also just make out a slumped form behind one of the crossbows, the bound and gagged sentry, now oblivious to the presence of the intruders.
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Lucius hopped back down to the main deck and crept to the door. He had not wanted to risk exploring the rest of the ship but, while his men were busy with their haul, he reasoned that it was better to be safe than very, very sorry. He tried the handle, resolving himself to simply blocking the exit with a barrel or something similar if it were locked, in order to stop any attempt by the crew to storm the main deck, and was faintly surprised to find the door swung easily open. The interior was pitch black and he cast a quick look over his shoulder, suddenly apprehensive. He could see the shadowy shapes of thieves at work at the far end of the ship in the half-light of Kerberos and, seeing nothing more amiss, steeled himself to take a look inside.
Stretching a hand outwards, Lucius summoned a small flame, its purple light flickering crazily. Inside, a small corridor extended ahead. At its end was a stout door lined with metal bands — leading to the captain's quarters, Lucius presumed. To his left was another closed door and to his right, a small set of stairs descended into darkness.
Creeping forward as quietly as he could, Lucius ducked his head down the stairs briefly. He had no desire to pace his way through sleeping crew. Just wanting to ensure no one was awake, he peered into the gloom and was greeted with a rank smell that made him retch until he buried his face into his cloak. He had never smelled anything like it; the stench of a body left in the sun too long, mixed with the pungent aroma of salt and dead fish. It was not pleasant like the scent of a fresh catch being unloaded dockside from a fisherman's boat, but something altogether more sickening. Shaking his head at the hygiene of Allantian sailors, Lucius turned away to approach the door to the captain's quarters.
There was no sound of movement behind the door and for that, he was grateful. Not quite knowing what to do, Lucius eventually settled on snuffing out his flame to call upon a reflection of the same thread of power. Reaching towards the lock, he felt a chill sweep through him as the magic surged in his body. His hand becoming the focus, he concentrated until a stream of cold air blasted forward to envelope the lock's mechanism, softly whistling as ice began to form.
Hoping that would be sufficient to at least delay the captain should he awake to the noise of the thieves working at the far end of the ship, Lucius started to retrace his steps.
He froze as he heard a strangled cry ahead. Though the door to the deck was open before him, he could not see any of the other thieves, and he at first thought they were either hidden by the masts or else working in the hold. That did not make any sense though, for the unloading of silk should have begun by now. A heavy thump seemed to resonate through the ship, as if something very large had been dropped, and this was followed by a shout of warning.
Startled now, and worried by what might have stirred the thieves into breaking their silence, Lucius started to run to the main deck, but was halted by the sound of movement from the stairs leading to the lower deck. The crew of the ship would have been awoken by the thieves on board, and Lucius crouched, sword drawn, ready to skewer whoever came up the stairs first.
Seeing a shadow move, the stench he had smelled before suddenly strengthened and he realised someone was approaching. He felt the comfort of the threads of magic spin in his mind's eye, ready to be unleashed if his sword alone proved insufficient. Stepping forward, blade ready, Lucius prepared to thrust his weapon into the chest of whoever emerged and then sprint out to see what danger the rest of his team faced.
A loud cry of fear and alarm rang out, resounding in the confined space. Dimly, Lucius realised it was he that had screamed. The figure before him climbed up the stairs inexorably, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched the horror approach.
Two shiny, black eyes — each the size of his fist — looked back at him unblinking. They were mounted in a bulbous, scaly head, its wide maw filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. It was naked, but its skin was completely cloaked in the same foul green scales that covered its head. Spines rose from the top of its skull and continued down its back, and they flattened menacingly as it spoke a language he did not recognise, a base slurping and lapping sound that no human could imitate.
Slime covered its hideous body but it was not until it raised a hand, its nails stretching out into wicked inch-long webbed claws, that Lucius was finally galvanised into action, his instinct for survival overriding his conscious mind.
Screaming again, he flailed out with his sword, but it was swatted away with a metallic chink by one of the claws. Reeling backwards from the blow, he knew the creature was immensely strong, and that he was about to die, torn apart by those talons, and then savaged and consumed by those fangs.
Reaching a hand up in defence, his fear and anger mingled, and he was distantly aware of two threads of power smashing together to form one continuous bolt of energy that whipped through his body violently. Crying out in pain now, Lucius sought to unleash the magic building up inside before it burned him to a cinder and he focussed it forward, straight into the creature.
Lightning erupted from his hand and struck the creature in the centre of its chest with a massive impact, sending it flying back down the stairs with an inhuman wail. Standing, Lucius continued to direct the flow of magic, sending bolts of white hot light down into the lower deck where they smashed into the corpse of the creature, incinerating it, before blasting through the floor into the darkest regions of the ship. The flickering light illuminated the lower deck, and he saw more of the creatures caught in the explosion, shielding their large dark eyes from the glare as they pulled themselves in through open portholes in the ship's hull.
Shouting out obscenities, Lucius directed the pulsing magical energy to wherever he saw movement, striking down one monster after another, their scales sizzling in the blinding heat. Without warning, the magic waned and he felt the two threads separate. The lightning stopped and he staggered back, suddenly weary, before collapsing to the floor.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, Lucius clumsily raised his sword to ward off a sudden rush of the creatures up the stairs, but none came. He had either destroyed them all or at least scared them off, and he sobbed for a moment, overcome by the horror of what he had faced and the sheer exhaustion of focussing so much magic at once.
More cries from the main deck cleared his fogged mind, and he clambered back on his feet. He rushed to the door shakily, and braced himself on its frame as he looked out.
The creatures covered the deck, loping along with a strange gait that seemed unsuited for dry land. Clambering over the sides of the ship, their claws digging into the wood to give purchase, dozens more were rushing away from him — and towards the thieves.
He saw men battling them, but they were completely overwhelmed by the strength and numbers of the horrors. One thief, armed with two knives, circled one of the creatures to find an opening, but — with frightening speed — it whirled round and he screamed as its claws raked his face and tore out his eyes. The creature's mouth closed upon his skull, and Lucius heard the wet crack as his head was torn apart.