Second voyage

"So is this fear demon captured now, or still loose? And what does the Prince have to do with this? Was he possessed y the fear demon, or one of his advisors?"

"The demon is trapped inside that sailor's body," Vethalia says running along beside Gueisclinbert, "kind of a strange way for a demon to behave."

"The price was a doppleganger." Andariel says rushing along, "At least ai hope he was a doppleganger, sallow skin, fangs, claws, mental powers. Yes, definitely a doppleganger."

"If we imprison the demon forever, does that mean this sailor has to be its host forever?" Vethalia asks the knight making a face.

The Void Knight squises the broken arm of the sailor. He screams in agony.

The Knight turns to Vethalia as they walk. The man’s life is forfeit.
So long as his days be a waking nightmare, the Dream-Eater may not depart.
With his limbs made useless, the spirit may work no wickedness,
but must bide its time till the host doth sleep… or perish

He goes down into the archive basement, where a small door in the wall stands open. The inside of this small box/room is covered with mirrors.Unceremoniously, the knight throws the sailor into the room and closes the door.

Shut fast this door, and bar it ’gainst all prying eyes.
Then… then is my charge fulfill’d, and I may take my rest

The giant man sits down on a crate, the wood complaining under the weight. For the first time he really looks at you all.

The stars be wondrous chang’d, and thy tongue soundeth strange to mine ear.
Certes, I must have held the Dream-Eater bound these many hundred years.

The Void instructeth its disciples in many crafts,
and the bending of one’s own hours is but a single art among them.
Perchance, with God’s grace or fortune’s whim,
a brother of mine yet lieth in slumber beyond the march of time

"We knew he wasn't the real prince. No one but you has been able to get close enough to find out what he is, and I'm glad you survived."

"Is there absolutely no way to rescue this sailor? Condemning him to an eternity of suffering seems a little harsh."

"I suppose one of us could switch places." Vethalia says, "Of course I'd just blow you all up if we switched spots."

"I just killed a doppleganger," Andariel says carefully inscribing the sigils, "do you really want to have to deal with that?"

You sit in the archive waiting for the master of runes when you hear someone coming and expect it to be the master.

When the door opens, three Syndicate advisors stand in the hallway, cloaks removed, uniforms loosened, faces carved with exhaustion. Lanternlight throws long shadows across their features.

The eldest of the three speaks first. His voice is low and steady, but grief edges every word.
We have come to speak of the… the thing that wore our prince’s face. Not in anger. Not any longer.

A woman with dark hair pulled too tightly back, closes the door and turns to you with a mixture of shame and gratitude.

We searched his chambers.
We questioned the crew.
We compared every ledger, every seal, every order.

She draws a long breath.
And now we know the truth.

Younger than the others, eyes still red from crying, interrupts.
The real prince never boarded the ship.
He was replaced before we ever left Highmount.

You know different; you witnessed him falling to his death over the island.

The elder adviser explains with a somber tone.
We found the signs we should have seen sooner.
The false signatures.
The altered logs.
The suggestions whispered in private counsel.
He looks up, brimming with anger
That creature did not merely imitate our prince. It ruled in his name. And it meant far worse.

We have testimonies about how he looked at the younger crew. How he manipulated affections. How he pushed and pried at loyalties that were not his to claim.

The second adviser steps in and meet the eye of Andariel
He tried the same with you. Had you not acted, we dread to think what he would have become.
We do not blame you
She addresses the rest of you.
We don't blame any of you for your action on the deck. We were angry and hurt and we had lost crew already.
But we see now that you saved us.

The elder advisor steps forward and places his hand over his heart.
The Syndicate owes you truth.
And it owes you thanks.

We ask only to know everything you witnessed.
How he died.
When he changed.
Whether he ever spoke as himself.

For tomorrow… we must decide what tale the world will hear

"I tried telling your people about the Prince but no one would hear me. He did board and was tossed overboard about a day out. We saw it happen and I flew down to investigate but it the fall, or something before, had ended his life. I buried him as best I could and can give you the landmarks so you can retrieve his body."