Pirates Dead Ahead

I flung open the door onto the deck of the Southern Stream and sucked greedily at the sharp salt air. Having expelled the foul odor from my lungs, I gingerly raised my arm to my nose. I took a quite whiff and let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully the sour smell of bile mixed with stomach acids and sea rations had yet to permeate the blue fabric. I heard a soft snickering behind me. “Is there something wrong with the air below decks, Healer? You’re looking a little green about the gills.” I turned and smiled serenely at the brown haired human leaning on the quarterdeck railing. “Why, not at all. The air below is fresh as a spring meadow. But you know, Kalena, Vixi has been missing your chats somewhat terribly. Hey, I have an idea! In two hours, when the upchuck buckets need to be changed, you can go and have a nice long talk with her.” I threw the wizard another wide grin and she returned it with a Look. Climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck, I joined the half of the Order of the Rampant Dragon that wasn’t throwing their insides or locked in deep meditation.

We had stayed in Aurincia a mere two days. As soon as we arrived we informed the Council of our adventures to date. Naturally, they had wanted our group to depart for Vertinia as soon as the Southern Stream had been resupplied. The Council, however, was persuaded to let us stay in an extra day for some needed retraining. Bishop Jorda was elated to see me walk into the temple of Kord looking, as she put it, “as happy as a shellfisher who’d found her first pearl.” She smiled knowing as I related the tale of our short adventure. “Well it seems like you are putting both the Symbol of Life and ol’ Father Cerrance’s teachings to good use.” The bishop sent me on my way that afternoon with a book a healing prayers to and letter from my friends Cora and Caling.

The Southern Stream sailed out on the dawn tide the following day. The first five days from port had been smooth, fast sailing. On the sixth day, the weather turned dreary and mists cast a shroud over the horizon. The winds changed from westerly to easterly and we were forced to tack into a headwind at a third of our previous speed. Despite my appeals to Kord, the winds had stayed in that unfavorable direction for the last two days and the fog remained. To further lower morale, Vixi, Rhegar, and three of the Stream’s crew had become violently sick at dinner the previous evening. As four of the five victims were experienced sailors, I suspected the culprit to be a stomach illness rather than the result of rough seas. The wind-chopped water, however, did little to settle their nausea and the five were currently huddled in the captain’s captain to prevent the illness from spreading to the rest of the crew.

Kalena opened her mouth to express her distaste with my idea, but before she had uttered a word the sailor in the crow’s nest let out a bellow. “Ship come out of the fog, Captain! Headed straight for us!” Forgetting the banter, Kalena and I clustered up with Kyri and Garn as Captain Raccan pulled a bronze spyglass form a coat pocket. “Well, what do you see? Are they friendly?” inquired Kalena. Captain Raccan snorted into his moustache. “They are most certainly not friendly, madam. That ship is flying the Crimson Cutlass and is running downwind straight for us.” Kalena’s eyes widened. Beside her, Kyri rested her hands on her slender hips. “Well we can’t have expected to avoid pirates all the way to the Vertinian coast. Can we out run the other ship Captain?” “Nay. She’s larger and carries more sails on her. She’d be on us before we could unfurl the extra canvas to run.” “Then we should tack north. If they are sailing to intercept us, then there is nothing we can do but prepare to be boarded. However, if the pirates have another vessel in their sights, then they can easily bypass us.” Kalena said. “That’s as good a plan as any, lass” agreed the captain as he grabbed the wheel and turned the Stream northward. “Perhaps someone should wake Markas?” suggested Kyri as she scanned the horizon for signs of another ship. “I’ll go.” I said as I headed down the stairs. “I’ll need to get my mail if there is going to be a fight. And while I’m down there I think I’ll grab Rhegar’s flaming crossbow as well. It’s not like he is going to be using it” I called over my shoulder.

By the time I returned to the quarterdeck, the black clipper was no longer bearing down on us and Kyri and Captain Raccan were taking turns looking at their deck through the spyglass. “The whole crew is Halflings.” The elf remarked. “Well Halflings are excellent sailors to be sure, but the speed they are putting on is to the point of recklessness. It’s almost as if they’re running from something.” “I wonder what they are running from. If it’s dangerous perhaps we should be running, too.” Garn mused. As if on cue, a cry came down from the nest. “ ‘Nother ship on the horizon!” Raccan’s first mate had taken the spyglass from Kyri and was now sighting down the new ship. “Sir! She’s flying the colors of Vertinia as well as the Quartered Crimson.” “There’s your answer lad. Pirates tend to avoid being boarded by the Port Authority as it tends to mean they lose their treasure and their lives.” Kalena rubbed her hands together and smiled in a spritish fashion. “Then I think it’s time we cultivated some favor with the local navy.”

Raccan wheeled the Stream around, and steered her into the direct course of the oncoming halfling vessel. Unwilling to ram the Stream and sink both ships to the bottom of the sea, the pirate captain turned his ship so that the two were sailing side by side. The Halfling sailors continued to throw on sail and Raccan ordered his crew to do the same, matching the pirate’s speed. Jack tar halflings brandished cutlass and sword at our crew, crying out “Arr! Come and taste steel! You’ll never take us alive ya landlubbers! We’ll send you to Melora’s embrace!”

Garn gripped a rope and shouted into the wind. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” The halfling captain beamed back at us. “Who us? Agh, we just be takin’ the ol’ sheets out for a stretch. But what be ye doin’ hereabouts? Yer not even flyin’ a flag o’ yer house.” Garn was unfazed by the pirate’s comments, though our first mate sent a crewman scurrying to get Perinor’s flag. “I’ve seen pleasant sailing, sir, and this isn’t it. Why don’t we just wait for the law to arrive?” The pirate captain doubled over with laughter. Guffawing he cried, “Wait for the law?! Boyo, where are ya from that ya think they’re the law?” Kyri had climbed up beside Garn and this time it was she who replied. “We’re from Perinor.” She shouted into the wind. The pirate’s laughter stopped immediately and his voice went cold. “Perinor is a myth.” Kyri drew her shoulders back and raised her head high, nobility radiating from her stance. “Then you find yourself in the middle of a legend for we sailed from the capitol city just over a week ago.” The halfling dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Well I hope y’all have some legendary powers then because if that ship catches us, we’re all dead. Take another look at yonder crew, lass.”

Kyri took the spyglass from the first mate’s outstretched hand. She focused on the deck and with a shocked look handed the spyglass to me. I put the instrument to my eye and nearly dropped it in shock. Skeletons crawled over every available scrap of wood not bearing canvas, wielding rusty cutlasses and crossbows. They were commanded by a plethora of tiefling officers that looked more demonish than any tiefling I had ever seen. Kyri turned back to the halfling captain. “Why are there skeletons crewing an official ship of Vertinia?” “Ye kiddies must really be from Perinor iffin ye has no idea how that happened. A hundred years ago, the evil gods divided up the known world. Asmodeus took Vertinia. He uses the dead bodies o’ honest Vertinians to crew his ships and staff his armies.” “Well, what are you then? Vertinians or something else?” Kyri shouted. “Oh, we’re Vertinians all right. We escaped though the fortune of residing on the outer island. In Vertinia’s heyday the House of the Crimson Rapier was an alliance of merchants. When the world went to hell we switched to piracy.”

“Are you planning on attacking the Port Authority?” Garn asked. The pirate captain gave a mirthless chuckle. “That would be suicide.” Kyri threw Garn a glare and the dragonborn nipped off his next question. “So what normally happens in this situation?” she yelled though the winds. “Well we either escape into the fog or we die.” “Would it help if we worked together, paired up and attacked from one ship with a larger force?” The captain mulled over the idea, running a hand over his thick braids. “It could even the odds and with the skellies bearing down on us we don’t have much choice. Throw a plank over, boys.”