Delver (Days After Chaos)

The lake was calm. Unusually calm for a March twilight, for any other early spring night would have powerful winds coercing the water into high squalls which shake the cog with a regular dip and rise, a night that the strange northerners, with their scarlet-painted faces and savage ways would relish to descend on an unsuspecting trade cog in the middle of Lake Superior, under the cover of the wind and waves to slaughter the unsuspecting crew, loot the ship, and finally bring it back to their foggy northern shores to burn in an inexplicable pagan ritual.

It was not that night, for the calm and quiet night was a very special time. The subtleness of the night was so extreme, that not even Lewis Bradford Jackson could feel the wind or waves.