The Isle of Crystal Shores was now Crystal Shores Lost. There was no going back; what once was our paradise now lay under molten lava, with smoke choking the sun, the skies and ourselves, and within twenty-four hours of the mountain first spewing fire, the weight of our beloved Isle and the fire rock sent it spiraling to the bottom of the ocean.

So now, where to go? The lucky who escaped with their lives and boarded their ships in time were now adrift, and with Achethe not an option for many, it was decided that when Land was spotted, it would be that Land to navigate to and dock. Sapphiredge was that land, and it was not, as later learned, a wise choice.

While it looked friendly enough from sea, once land was reached, those of Crystal Shores were put into Quarantine, for fear, so we were told, by the Sapphiredgite Authorities that the Islanders might be carrying disease. Families already traumatized were separated, and those that were suffering rather minor ailments, as well as those who appeared healthy, were kept confined against their will. Some who went kept in Quarantine were never seen alive again; their survivors were told that their relative was sicker than any had known and perished.

That was not the truth.

The truth was that the S'Leer, the Lizard People that were the majority of the population, were stockpiling the Crystal Shores survivors for food. Eating them live, filling their bellies on our people.

It was a well-kept secret, or was it that we were so anguished, so grief-stricken and so tired that we just didn't realize it immediately? Upon retrospect, there were clues. But we just didn't see them...we'd already been through Hell itself, and had no idea things could possibly get worse.

Quarantine and poverty were only the beginning.

None were adjusting well. Children cried day and night, but an odd thing happened with those children: They had a Second Sight, an intuition that seemingly occurred overnight. Their dreams were nightmares and kept them awakened, and cries of "Mother, they're going to eat us!" echoed the halls of the Inn. The cries were seen by the parents as overactive little imaginations and trauma from losing their homes, but eventually, and for some, too late, the parents saw that the children were dead-on right.

The S'Leer were every bit as deadly as the Sharken that swam the seas round Crystal Shores, but were far more agile. Where Sharken would have some land capabilities, you always knew when one was coming for you. You could also, if you were smart, try to stay out of range of one's dead black eyes, whereas the S'Leer could sense your warm blood and sneak up behind you when you least expected it. When you realized they were there, it was already too late. Like a modern-day bullet, the one you don't hear fired is the one that killed you.

The worst part of the S'Leer is that they were given respect of the Crystal Shores refugees, as those from the Isle were largely open-minded and without prejudice. The reptilian features went politely unnoticed in public, and the benefit of the doubt, of the S'Leer being so different, and ultimately so deadly, was extended.

Such as when being in a room, a small, rented room, spartanly furnished, all one need do was envision a room they'd wish instead, and the room would transform itself into just that. Not permanently, of course, but for long enough stretches to make living there tolerable. Food was stretched the same way. Rocks could be thrown into the cook pot, and a savory venison stew would be ladled out later. The magics were healing in many ways, but none of us were truly made whole.

The severity of the situation came when the S'Leer grew bolder, trapping and capturing the survivors in the street, and dragging them off screaming. It only happened at night in the beginning, and those disappearances were chalked up to mishaps; perhaps someone wandered off and got lost. Surely they'll find their way back. Mayhap someone found a ship heading to Achethe and had a change of heart; sure, that's where they went.

But that's not what happened, and over time, people began going missing in broad daylight. Something had to be done.

Sir Alterio Carazzi II, already gripped in overwhelming depression and grief, was approached by a mysterious figure with an aura surrounding her; she curled her finger and beckoned him closely. A warmth flowed over him as the woman, who seemed to be one with Sight, convinced him that not only was it plausible, but it was a must, that he form a Search Party and board his ship, returning to where Crystal Shores stood, because it was possible, through Gods and Magics (both of which Carazzi is uneducated), and did in fact happen, that the Isle rose from its watery grave, largely unscathed. That Gods could do this sort of thing, and did it, because by Khlamar, none should suffer as they did.

In the grips of her magics and with hope he desperately clung to, he rounded up men to come with him. The Elder Knight Carazzi, Embrich Silverton and Gator Wyrmstomper rounded out the party.

Leaving without telling their families, for the woman warned that she knew it sounded crazy, and that if doubt set in, Khlamar would take back his blessing, they set out in the dead of night and were gone for many months. As it may come as no surprise to one learning history, it was trickery.

Carazzi and those three he took with him were chosen to leave Sapphiredge by the woman, a S'Leer Mercenary, as they were seen as heads of their families, keeping the delicacies known as children safe behind the impenetrable inn. And the inn would not be impenetrable if the powerful Wyrmstomper male was removed.

The Wyrmstomper wife did what she could to hold off attacks, but had Foresight to see that the inn wouldn't be a fortress forever. She began to aide in smuggling the refugees to Achethe. Meanwhile, the Search Party of four were halved; Embrich Silverton and Gater Wyrmstomper lost their lives. The Carazzis, bloodied and defeated, fought as valiantly as they could, after they were ambushed, and returned with deadened dreams to Achethe.