He found the moon elf down on the main deck, in what remained of the storage area. She directed Chirp and Trivit's efforts to patch the gaping hole in the roof where the ballista had crashed through. A group of elves disassembled the ballista according to Om's terse instructions, preparing to take the weapon above to the upper deck to be remounted.
Although Teldin was gratified to see the work progressing so well, the bustle was not conducive to his mission. Teldin walked up to the moon elf and quietly spoke a few words to her. She nodded, and he slipped away to the cargo hold. Within moments Raven joined him, wearing the warmest clothes she could find aboard ship.
"What's on your mind, Captain?"
Fleetingly, Teldin wondered at her use Of the title. Raven always called him that, with subtle but deliberate emphasis. Was she baiting him, or perhaps mocking his pretensions toward commanding the Spelljammer? He added it to the bottom of the list of questions he planned to ask her-if and when they got back from Rakhar.
"Can you shapechange?" he asked bluntly. When Raven quirked an inquiring eyebrow, he hastened to explain the ability his cloak gave him to change his appearance at will. Raven listened, a strange smile curving her lips and speculation glinting in her gold and silver eyes.
"That presents some interesting possibilities," she said at last, more to herself than to Teldin. "Why do you ask?"
Teldin quickly told her about the fallen ship and his decision to investigate and, if possible, help survivors. "If we took the form of one of the native races, we'd be less likely to run into trouble," he concluded.
"Unless someone speaks to you in Orcish," she pointed out.
Teldin shrugged away her objection and gathered up a handful of his cloak. "It translates."
"Hmmm. Handy garment to have, Captain." She pulled the sapphire pendant from its hiding place beneath her jerkin. "This trinket has a different set of tricks, but shapechanging happens to be one of my hobbies," she said in a wry tone. "As for changing into goblin form, that might best be done a safe distance from the swan ship. If it's all the same to you, I'm in no mood to be fireballed by a bunch of elven wizards."
Teldin conceded her point with an uncertain smile, and they worked together to drag a spare longboat from the cargo hold. A ballista was mounted at the bow of the lower level, and they lowered the longboat through the opening the weapon port provided. The longboat was painted a silvery white, making it deliberately conspicuous in wildspace but providing effective camouflage in the icy water. The boat was almost invisible in the churning waters, which tossed the small craft about as effortlessly as if it were a fisherman's float.
For more than an hour, the pair struggled with the oars. Merely staying afloat was an accomplishment, but at the end of the hour they still were no more than an arrow's shot from the swan ship.
"Time to change," Teldin gasped out.
Raven nodded, brushing a frozen lock of hair out of her face and securing her oar in the gunwale. "I've seen the creatures. I'll go first."
She closed her eyes. Immediately her outline blurred and her elven form was replaced by a nebulous gray haze. As Teldin watched, fascinated, the gray mist shifted and expanded, like a boat comes into focus as it emerges from a fog bank, so the details of her new features began to sharpen. The transformation was over in a matter of seconds, and Teldin recoiled instinctively from what Raven had become.
Beside him was a huge, vaguely humanoid creature covered with a dingy, whitish fur. Seated, the creature towered over Teldin, and its massive torso and thick arms gave mute testimony to its strength. Its shoulders were as wide as a broadsword, and its short, squat legs ended in the clawed feet of a bear. Indeed, much about the creature was bearlike. Its prominent snout had the distinctive pug shape of a bear, and its mouth was full of sharp, curved fangs. Its eyes were a pale, sickly green with blood-red pupils, and the tips of short, wedge-shaped ears protruded from the thatch of white hair that crowned its sloped forehead.
"Should I be glad I don't have a mirror?" the creature asked in Raven's wry voice. Teldin nodded dumbly, and her tusks glinted as she smiled at the dumbfounded man. "Your turn, and hurry. I'm heavier than you now, and the boat's listing my way something awful. I don't fancy trying to swim in this fur coat."
Teldin stared intently at Raven, taking in the details of her new face and form. He closed his eyes and conjured a mental image of himself, replacing it in his mind with a replica of the creature beside him. He knew the transformation was complete when he heard long, ripping sounds, followed by a woman's laugh. Belatedly he remembered his clothing. He cracked one eye open and looked down. His fine, elf-crafted garments were not equal to the transformation and they hung about his massive new body in ribbons.
Raven shook her shaggy white head. "Don't think ahead much, do you?" she said with a chuckle. "Might as well toss those rags, Captain, though you'll raise some eyebrows when you change back to human form."
Silently agreeing, Teldin ripped off the remains of his clothing and dropped them into the sea. The thick fur insulated him from the cold better than his own clothing had, and he didn't miss it. His only garment was the cloak, which, as always, adjusted its size to accommodate his form.
"You might do something about that cloak," Raven suggested, pointing to the regal purple that flowed over his furred shoulders. "You'll be the best dressed yeti-bugbear on Armistice. People will talk."
Teldin grinned through his tusks and shrank the cloak down to its necklace size. The silver chain easily hid in his thick fur, and he caught a glimpse of the gold and blue pendant buried in Raven's fur. Their transformation completed, the pair resumed their rowing. Having the strength of the Armistice-bred creatures sped their progress, and soon they pulled the craft up on a pebble-strewn beach.
They followed a barely discernible wisp of smoke and tramped up the first of several small foothills. As they walked, the winds picked up and yet another blizzard began. Even in his yeti form, Teldin found the climate punishing, and, to conserve their energy, he and Raven trudged on without speaking. As they crested the fifth hill, the wreck came into sight. Teldin fought back the memory of that first crashed spelljammer, and he led the way as they half-ran, half-slid down the snowy hill toward the downed ship as fast as their stubby legs allowed.
The ship, or what was left of it, had been cracked wide open by the force of impact and now was little more than a smoking hull. Four thin, twisted protrusions rose from the wreckage, and to Teldin's eye the ship looked like a dead thing, lying on its back with it legs sticking up. Something about the ship seemed oddly familiar…
"The klicklikak," Teldin breathed. His words formed a cloud, instantly condensing into icy droplets that clung to his facial fur. Raven squinted at the ship, then nodded confirmation. A quick investigation showed that no bodies remained in the ship; all apparently had been thrown out when the ship had split in two. Snow-covered mounds were scattered around the hull, however. Not sure what compelled him, Teldin insisted on checking each one. Together he and Raven dug out four dead elves, their bodies mangled and already stiffening from the cold.
"No insectare. That's odd," Raven mused. "Only an insectare can use that helm." She pointed to the smoking, hooded throne that was fitted with two curling, long pipes. "No antennae, no power. It won't do the orcs much good. That's one comfort."
Teldin rubbed his forehead with a half-frozen paw. Suddenly he wondered why he'd come here, what he'd ever thought he could accomplish. He didn't see how anything could have survived the crash, and he said so. Raven wasn't as sure.