A lone figure stood on the edge of the Mire, his body caked in the grime of the Twilight Woods and beyond recognition of his former self. His limp arms swayed a little as the figure took a few staggered steps forward. The boots, or what was left of them, squelched in the mire mud as it oozed out from beneath them. With great effort the figure lifted his head. Two eyes, a deep jade colour, scanned the horizon wearily. His brow furrowed stiffly when he realized that there was nothing but the Mire to be seen in every direction. From nowhere, a vicious wind swooped and attacked the figure's knotted blond hair, nearly knocking the man off his feet. He regained his balance however, only to fall forward onto his face. The man groaned with displeasure at his current situation before using his last ounce of energy to roll onto his back.
For three weeks he had stumbled through the dense Twilight Woods. Three days of eating only the fruits that looked familiar and three days of watching animals drinking from ponds before drinking from them himself. He had come close to loosing his mind in that perilous place, with its phantoms and ghosts from his past that had haunted him so. And yet, Sky knows how, he had found his way to the Mire relatively unscathed.
The figure stared up at the sky, cursing his predicament. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a tiny ship soaring through the sky, cutting through the air with ease. Reminded of his quest, he gradually pulled himself to his feet, a sudden out burst of anger controlling his movements. It was that anger that drove him on, step after step, through the Mire. His progress was slow but the determination shone in his exhausted eyes. He would make it to Undertown, he knew he would. The race was on.
The Boom-Docks were packed to the brim with Leaguesmen, all scuttling around like Wig-Wigs. Each one had a place to go or something to do and made sure everyone else knew it. All around there were cries of "Hey, I said put that crate down there!" and "Watch it, this is a new coat!". The Leaguesmen were waiting for the grand unveiling of a new sky ship but wanted to make sure their ships, hovering in the docks, looked immaculate. That meant a lot of work for their crews who hurried to obey their captain's commands as quickly as possible, lest their ship not look as fantastic as the one about to be unveiled. The last thing anybody wanted was an angry Leaguesman with a bruised ego.
In all the commotion, no-one noticed a sky ship glide effortlessly to a stop in one of the end bays. Within moments, its sails had been tied up and the helm abandoned. The silver lettering on the side shone in the golden sunlight, making the word SnowSeeker stand out clearly. The crew disembarked without a word, a gloomy silence surrounding them. It was only the captain who appeared merry, leaping off his ship with a cheeky grin. "Look alive, lads!" he said adjusting his bicorne hat. The crew turned unenthusiastically, eyeing their captain with apparent distain. The captain stroked his dark moustache before reaching deep into the pockets of his lengthy red coat. His hand emerged with a bag of coins. "Right crew, its time to split up. Ged and Quill, see if you can find us some provisions," he said, tossing them several coins. Ged the gnokgoblin looked up from the meagre coins in his palm, fixing his captain with an icy stare. "Cap'n, this is barely enough coins for a tilder sausage," Ged moaned, the edge plain in his voice. Beside him, his twin brother Quill nodded.
"Nonsense," replied the Captain cheerily, stretching out his arms. "You two are the best arguers in the crew. I've complete faith in you that you two will be able to persuade someone to give us some food for that amount. Now go on, be off with you!"