Tye and Mark both looked at Rin when she offered to fetch water. Tye nodded again in reply while Mark cast about in search of something. The older man went and collected a broad leaf from one of the many plants on the forest floor and tried to bend and fold it into a bowl-like shape. As he tested different methods he returned to the group, unable to help but smile at how silly his attempts seemed. The thief stayed where he was, as one might expect, even as the conversation continued.
The boy sputtered a bit as Taff went on to explain how he'd usually let others die and chuckled, gritting his teeth in pain soon after. Then Gelligen asked him that question and his amusement vanished. Although he was exhausted the thief still managed to glower at the man, saying, "Use yer 'ead! If I wanted t' die I wouldn' be out 'ere tryin' t' survive with ye, now would I? An' I'm no' goin' t' be anyone's slave anymore."
Mark turned his head toward the wounded slave and quipped, "I don't know about you Tye, but I typically address my potential saviors respectfully." Tye huffed back.
_
The haggard swashbuckler listened to Merthyr's explanation and frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why, it sounds like you don't really believe in yerself there lad. I mean it makes sense, the pirates own this entire island so you're not likely to escape. But... I used to think that way too and all it afforded me was my skinny bod an' a lack of a shirt!" The fellow grunted while trying to straighten his back. "I spent so many years beggin' I can't even stand right! That's when I learned to take initiative, lad! An' before I knew it I was sailin' the high seas with plenty o' booze and ladyfolk to keep me company! Isn't that great!?"
The distract-able pirate stretched his arms to each side, as if showing himself off. "I know I'm no looker, but if I can do it, so can you!" Then he paused. "...What was i 'ere for again?" Then another pirate emerged from the jungle, glanced between the two and said;
"Chowder! Are you talking with the slaves again!?" The haggard one looked over at his fellow pirate and asked, "Why are we lookin' fer him again?"
"To CAPTURE him, Chowder!"
"Oh!" They both drew their blades; Chowder sported a simple parrying dagger while the other pirate had a scimitar. The new pirate waved the blade at Merthyr, demanding, "Start walking. Up the strand. No funny ideas!"
The boy sputtered a bit as Taff went on to explain how he'd usually let others die and chuckled, gritting his teeth in pain soon after. Then Gelligen asked him that question and his amusement vanished. Although he was exhausted the thief still managed to glower at the man, saying, "Use yer 'ead! If I wanted t' die I wouldn' be out 'ere tryin' t' survive with ye, now would I? An' I'm no' goin' t' be anyone's slave anymore."
Mark turned his head toward the wounded slave and quipped, "I don't know about you Tye, but I typically address my potential saviors respectfully." Tye huffed back.
_
The haggard swashbuckler listened to Merthyr's explanation and frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why, it sounds like you don't really believe in yerself there lad. I mean it makes sense, the pirates own this entire island so you're not likely to escape. But... I used to think that way too and all it afforded me was my skinny bod an' a lack of a shirt!" The fellow grunted while trying to straighten his back. "I spent so many years beggin' I can't even stand right! That's when I learned to take initiative, lad! An' before I knew it I was sailin' the high seas with plenty o' booze and ladyfolk to keep me company! Isn't that great!?"
The distract-able pirate stretched his arms to each side, as if showing himself off. "I know I'm no looker, but if I can do it, so can you!" Then he paused. "...What was i 'ere for again?" Then another pirate emerged from the jungle, glanced between the two and said;
"Chowder! Are you talking with the slaves again!?" The haggard one looked over at his fellow pirate and asked, "Why are we lookin' fer him again?"
"To CAPTURE him, Chowder!"
"Oh!" They both drew their blades; Chowder sported a simple parrying dagger while the other pirate had a scimitar. The new pirate waved the blade at Merthyr, demanding, "Start walking. Up the strand. No funny ideas!"
Merthyr raised his hands behind the head, fingers interlocked tightly and pressed firmly against the back of the neck as he quietly but briskly marched towards the rest of pirates wondering how unpleasant the encounter with Triss would turn out to be.
He was aware it would be anything but welcoming and accepted he had already signed up for any and all reprimands the man might care to come up with, the very moment he had dared to walk out of the pirate's den in the first place. But he had done it to protect Taff from imminent harm. It was, in his opinion, a fair price to pay to spare his best friend, his only friend, from mutilation and certain death.
---
"It's alright I'm but a slave, no manners required at all" assured Taff taking the rudeness on the stride. He accepted such words as agreement to heal so he proceeded closing his eyes and gave himself entirely under the coatal's command and control almost an empty body without a mind of its own. If anyone could heal the thief, that would be the dragon.
He was aware it would be anything but welcoming and accepted he had already signed up for any and all reprimands the man might care to come up with, the very moment he had dared to walk out of the pirate's den in the first place. But he had done it to protect Taff from imminent harm. It was, in his opinion, a fair price to pay to spare his best friend, his only friend, from mutilation and certain death.
---
"It's alright I'm but a slave, no manners required at all" assured Taff taking the rudeness on the stride. He accepted such words as agreement to heal so he proceeded closing his eyes and gave himself entirely under the coatal's command and control almost an empty body without a mind of its own. If anyone could heal the thief, that would be the dragon.
Rising and turning to head off for water at Tye's nod, her step suddenly faltered. Silly her. In true noble fashion she had simply expected there to be something suddenly there for her to carry the water with. Palming her face briefly in self mortification, she turned to scan the area with a sigh. Spotting Mark with his makeshift bowl, she moved over to him with a wry grin. "You're pretty handy, ya know?" She murmered with a shake of her head as she watched his attempts. Clumsy though they may have been, it was a far cry better than nothing. "May I?" She asked, and if he allowed it, she would lightly take the bowl and with a glance toward Taff and the goings on, head back through the tunnel toward the waterfall at its entrance. (If he had not allowed her to take the bowl, she would have sought to emulate his efforts with one of her own. With varying degrees of success.)
Stepping from the mouth of the tunnel, the loud sound of cascading water resounding in her ears, she moved to the small pool that collected at the base of the waterfall, scanning the area to make sure there were no contaminants that she could see. Before she dipped the 'bowl' within, she paused and listened closely, scanning once more around her. She felt uneasy, even after finding this relatively safe haven. If there were many pirate around, they could cover lots of ground - especially if they were specifically looking for a group.
As she held still, watching for a long moment, she considered the idea of the pirates. Surely her father had considered the fact that it could be simple sea banditry that was pulling his kingdom under. If allowed to continue unchecked, no one would feel safe enough to cross the waters to trade. Yet, it didn't seem as if it could be so easy. Stop the pirates, return her kingdom to the prosperous one it had once been. No... could there be more treachery involved?
Sirina knew her father had been in discussion at the very least with King Conrad. Yet, after all their peaceable advances and talks, could the neighboring kingdom be working to undermine her father and take over his kingdom? Why else would Merthyr be here, among the pirates? How could he have been taken captive. What if it was all a charade? What if he was working with them?
Seeing no immediate signs of trouble, Sirina set aside her cloud of thoughts and dipped the bowl to gather water. Quickly returning to Tye's side, she knelt near the others to offer him a drink. Some of the water had leaked out, but there was a fair bit left.
Stepping from the mouth of the tunnel, the loud sound of cascading water resounding in her ears, she moved to the small pool that collected at the base of the waterfall, scanning the area to make sure there were no contaminants that she could see. Before she dipped the 'bowl' within, she paused and listened closely, scanning once more around her. She felt uneasy, even after finding this relatively safe haven. If there were many pirate around, they could cover lots of ground - especially if they were specifically looking for a group.
As she held still, watching for a long moment, she considered the idea of the pirates. Surely her father had considered the fact that it could be simple sea banditry that was pulling his kingdom under. If allowed to continue unchecked, no one would feel safe enough to cross the waters to trade. Yet, it didn't seem as if it could be so easy. Stop the pirates, return her kingdom to the prosperous one it had once been. No... could there be more treachery involved?
Sirina knew her father had been in discussion at the very least with King Conrad. Yet, after all their peaceable advances and talks, could the neighboring kingdom be working to undermine her father and take over his kingdom? Why else would Merthyr be here, among the pirates? How could he have been taken captive. What if it was all a charade? What if he was working with them?
Seeing no immediate signs of trouble, Sirina set aside her cloud of thoughts and dipped the bowl to gather water. Quickly returning to Tye's side, she knelt near the others to offer him a drink. Some of the water had leaked out, but there was a fair bit left.
Xochi stared at Taff as he spoke, and when he finished and Tye’s acceptance was evident, the dragon wrapped around the Warlock’s arm and clung there tightly, though not so tight as to cut off circulation. Her body traveled up the length of his entire arm and ended on his other shoulder and curled lightly near his neck.
Xochi positioned herself so that her head rested upon Taff’s open palm for a moment and spoke softly. “To heal that one we must give some of what is ours…” She paused to let the words settle in the warlock’s mind, and then swiftly struck at the warlock’s hand, biting into the meat of his palm. Xochi could feel the magical energies coursing through him, and being connected as thus to the warlock meant he would feel hers as well, though her fangs only lingered for a fraction of a second before she released her hold. It didn’t take long for droplets of crimson to rise from the puncture wounds.
Since his will was open to her she manipulated it so that his hand would tilt to allow some droplets of blood to splash onto the ground, in acknowledgment to the spirits that inhabited the secret cove. The dragon was no shaman, so any further guidance that could be asked for was requested. Xochi and Taff paused for a moment when Sirina kneeled by them, allowing Tye to drink water if he wished before they begin.
After the brief wait, Xochi murmured to Tye, “Lie as still as you can. No harm will come to you during this but it will likely be…uncomfortable.” She had Taff kneel next to the lad and extend one arm over him. If Tye would allow, the warlock would carefully place his bloodied palm down onto his naked chest and hold it there for a moment, concentrating. Their combined energy began to pool and shift under his hand as it gathered there. Tye’s skin grew hot where the warlock touched, and as his hand slid down to the one side of his ribcage, both human and dragon voices mingled in a quiet chant. The magic started with wounds closest to the surface and worked its way deeper to any damaged bones or organs. What would have taken months of healing if he had by some miracle survived on his own took moments now, but in exchange took its toll on the duo’s energy.
When it felt as though all was right within the lad Taff’s hand lifted, the only marks that remained was the trail of blood. The dragon’s tongue flickered and her lungs heaved for a moment in a quiet breath as the trance of both dragon and human ended. Xochi released her hold on Taff’s arm and climbed lazily to hang around his neck. Hoping he wouldn’t collapse after the energy they expended. Both looked equally drained, though less so if they had tried to heal Tye alone, at least. “You’ll likely feel a bit sore for a while, it would do you well to rest…as it would for us.” She squeezed Taff’s neck gently and flicked her tongue at him, tickling his skin.
Xochi positioned herself so that her head rested upon Taff’s open palm for a moment and spoke softly. “To heal that one we must give some of what is ours…” She paused to let the words settle in the warlock’s mind, and then swiftly struck at the warlock’s hand, biting into the meat of his palm. Xochi could feel the magical energies coursing through him, and being connected as thus to the warlock meant he would feel hers as well, though her fangs only lingered for a fraction of a second before she released her hold. It didn’t take long for droplets of crimson to rise from the puncture wounds.
Since his will was open to her she manipulated it so that his hand would tilt to allow some droplets of blood to splash onto the ground, in acknowledgment to the spirits that inhabited the secret cove. The dragon was no shaman, so any further guidance that could be asked for was requested. Xochi and Taff paused for a moment when Sirina kneeled by them, allowing Tye to drink water if he wished before they begin.
After the brief wait, Xochi murmured to Tye, “Lie as still as you can. No harm will come to you during this but it will likely be…uncomfortable.” She had Taff kneel next to the lad and extend one arm over him. If Tye would allow, the warlock would carefully place his bloodied palm down onto his naked chest and hold it there for a moment, concentrating. Their combined energy began to pool and shift under his hand as it gathered there. Tye’s skin grew hot where the warlock touched, and as his hand slid down to the one side of his ribcage, both human and dragon voices mingled in a quiet chant. The magic started with wounds closest to the surface and worked its way deeper to any damaged bones or organs. What would have taken months of healing if he had by some miracle survived on his own took moments now, but in exchange took its toll on the duo’s energy.
When it felt as though all was right within the lad Taff’s hand lifted, the only marks that remained was the trail of blood. The dragon’s tongue flickered and her lungs heaved for a moment in a quiet breath as the trance of both dragon and human ended. Xochi released her hold on Taff’s arm and climbed lazily to hang around his neck. Hoping he wouldn’t collapse after the energy they expended. Both looked equally drained, though less so if they had tried to heal Tye alone, at least. “You’ll likely feel a bit sore for a while, it would do you well to rest…as it would for us.” She squeezed Taff’s neck gently and flicked her tongue at him, tickling his skin.
Tye used what energy he could to partially collect the leaf-bowl from Rin's arms, gently pulling it toward his lips to drink. He finished what was inside, uttered a quiet 'thanks' and laid back down on the moss. Then he watched as Xochi situated herself on Taff's arm with silent fascination. It seemed he just realized how interesting the coatl dragon's feathers and scales were, tracing their shapes in his mind and nearly missing what the creature had to say. Blood was shed and the thief took a deep breath, trying to steady his dizzy, distract-able head.
"Aye," The boy responded, flexing his muscles a bit before willing them to collectively relax. He managed to maintain his stillness but frowned as Taff's hand touched his chest. It was bad enough to the thief that one person had manhandled him that day; now the count was two. He would tolerate it as long as it was of assistance but he probably would never enjoy it. He tried not to flinch as the hand drew nearer to the space above his internal wound, gritting his teeth.
Then the pain from his bruising faded, followed by the uncomfortable heat which gathered within, and then the object in his lung shifted itself back into place. Though the thief would have liked not to make a sound a whimper escaped his clenched teeth. Tye found the pain subsided seconds after though, and so his expression calmed. His eyes turned up to the previously channeling duo, curious and dazed, opening his mouth to speak. Then his lung fluttered, recently righted by the healing process and caused him to gasp in surprise. He had no idea he could even feel something so strangely specific!
The thief cupped a hand on his ribcage, astonished. "...Woah." Tye nodded at Xochi's suggestion while taking experimental breaths.
Mark had watched the spectacle from a short distance. Once it was done he smiled at the group and moved away, starting to investigate the foliage. He plucked some of the smaller vines from the trees, as well as strong strands of wild grass from the floor. Then he took more of the same leaves used as a bowl earlier, folded them similarly and tied the fibers together at their base. The slave did this four times, making a 'cup' for each present. Without needing to be asked he filled these (admittedly shallow) cups with water and brought them back to the others, asking, "Anyone else want some water?"
_
Chowder and the other pirate surrounded the surrendering slave king; the nameless one to his right and the haggard one to his left. Their walk was spent mostly silent, with the occasional distant call being answered by the nameless pirate; he called those still searching over, one at a time, since most had spread far and wide seeking Merthyr and Taff. One of the newer pirates to arrive grunted and asked, "Where's his servant?"
"Didn't find him."
"Tris is gonna whip us if we don't."
"Well, I'd prefer we do half the job at least!"
Chowder whistled a tune, picking at an overgrown nail while they continued strolling back to camp. Goff was not within earshot yet but couldn't be that far away.
"Aye," The boy responded, flexing his muscles a bit before willing them to collectively relax. He managed to maintain his stillness but frowned as Taff's hand touched his chest. It was bad enough to the thief that one person had manhandled him that day; now the count was two. He would tolerate it as long as it was of assistance but he probably would never enjoy it. He tried not to flinch as the hand drew nearer to the space above his internal wound, gritting his teeth.
Then the pain from his bruising faded, followed by the uncomfortable heat which gathered within, and then the object in his lung shifted itself back into place. Though the thief would have liked not to make a sound a whimper escaped his clenched teeth. Tye found the pain subsided seconds after though, and so his expression calmed. His eyes turned up to the previously channeling duo, curious and dazed, opening his mouth to speak. Then his lung fluttered, recently righted by the healing process and caused him to gasp in surprise. He had no idea he could even feel something so strangely specific!
The thief cupped a hand on his ribcage, astonished. "...Woah." Tye nodded at Xochi's suggestion while taking experimental breaths.
Mark had watched the spectacle from a short distance. Once it was done he smiled at the group and moved away, starting to investigate the foliage. He plucked some of the smaller vines from the trees, as well as strong strands of wild grass from the floor. Then he took more of the same leaves used as a bowl earlier, folded them similarly and tied the fibers together at their base. The slave did this four times, making a 'cup' for each present. Without needing to be asked he filled these (admittedly shallow) cups with water and brought them back to the others, asking, "Anyone else want some water?"
_
Chowder and the other pirate surrounded the surrendering slave king; the nameless one to his right and the haggard one to his left. Their walk was spent mostly silent, with the occasional distant call being answered by the nameless pirate; he called those still searching over, one at a time, since most had spread far and wide seeking Merthyr and Taff. One of the newer pirates to arrive grunted and asked, "Where's his servant?"
"Didn't find him."
"Tris is gonna whip us if we don't."
"Well, I'd prefer we do half the job at least!"
Chowder whistled a tune, picking at an overgrown nail while they continued strolling back to camp. Goff was not within earshot yet but couldn't be that far away.
Taff felt awfully dizzy and drained after the episode. To prevent collapsing, he sat back, resting on his toes, his palms pressed on his knees for better support as he did his best to recover. Fortunately, he was able to do so soon enough. After a short little he patted the coatl gently if protectively, letting it rest on him.
"You delivered healing as promised so I am now going to tell you all about me. A deal is a deal after all" nodded Taff with a brief smile of relief to see Tye well and recovering
"My name is Taff Gelligen, I am the king's manservant, a slave of the royal household. My druid name is Emris which means immortal because I am made of magic and I heal very quickly. I am a warlock, the last of dragonlords left in the lands where I come from, far up north. Back at the Emmerald Island, the celts explained to me my magic and blood are partly dragonborn, hence I call you kin, and partly druid. When I was very little the Northen folk told me that my magic flows from ancient dragons and nature itself, from the elements, but don't ask me it's all too confusing to unravel, I was too little to understand then and there's none of your kind or mine or even them left there to ask about it now.
See our lands were raided soon after I was told these things and men, women and children were put to the sword. I managed to escape the massacre but I became a slave, a trophy, a prisoner of war. Once the raids were over, a merchant purchased quite a few of us slaves when he was delivering sugar and tea and sent us all here to be sold on for a profit, many of them to work in the plantations, others doing servile chores at the rich households. Upon reaching these distant lands, I was put on a stand to be sold to the highest bidder. King Conrad was there at the time, he had arrived from a voyage, he saw me and bought me to serve his son Merthyr who was of similar age and I have done so to date.
Not long after I arrived in Port Royal, an epidemic quickly spread throughout King Conrad's realm, the healers blamed the foreign slaves for bringing in the disease that killed queen Leandra and the princesses Leonora and Alejandra, barely sparing prince Merthyr from such terrible illness with my well concealed gift. The king's royal advisors on the other hand accused us northen slaves from making use of sorcery and dark magic to bring about the queen's death, all the slaves from my ship were located and executed to ensure such curse would not strike again. All but me because prince Merthyr refused to hand me over and the king would never dare upset his son, his last remaining child. For his sake, king Conrad made an exception of me, he spared me. Since then magic has been banned under penalty of death, using it is high treason, so no one must know I've got it. King Merthyr doesn't know either as of yet" admitted Taff feeling he was cheating his best friend by not telling him the whole truth.
"Over the years, the prince and I grew up so fond and close to one another, we have never been apart till today, I could say we're best friends by now, he feels like a big protective brother of mine and we have each other's back. I've healed him many a times and he has spared my life many a times too. Even today he worried more about me than himself see... he arranged this whole escapade simply to keep me out of danger at his own expense. I fear he will pay dearly for this because I am a slave of these pirates, number forty five, they'll see my release as theft and pirates don't like thieves, not in the least." sighed Taff clearly troubled about the risks Merthyr had taken because of him.
"There won't be a ransom either, there cannot be one, not this time. There's no one left to make good on the bargain, no one left to bring over the vast sums these thugs may expect and oversee the exchange. A few months ago, when king Conrad was alive, he might have negotiated for his son's release and brought the payment over under parlay. Even his cousin, Sir Henry Morgan, being the governor at the time, might have negotiated terms on behalf of the royal household to ensure his highness safe return and deliver the ransom. But with king Conrad dead, his appointed governor is no more. No one can touch a gold piece out of the royal vaults but the king himself who happens to be here, stranded on this forsaken island, and they certainly won't take him back to Port Royal, it is the most heavily armed city in the realm, to go anywhere near it would be marching straight to an immediate, inevitable death for these pirates. " reasoned Taff
"We were actually travelling to Port Royal to formally appoint the new governor, following king Conrad's death and king Merthyr's coronation, when our ship was wrecked by the storms in the dead of night. It took me completely by surprise, there was nothing I could do to calm the furious weather, the crashing waves, by the time I woke up and realized what was going on, it was too late already. I barely managed to keep both of us afloat. The merchant Roland passed a few hours after, he rescued us but enslaved us in return, he certainly offers no free passage to anyone. We did our best to keep the head down and work hard like the rest onboard, without standing out or talking much. Then his ship crashed in the rocks, just for these brigands to lay hands on us immediately after that." muttered Taff shaking his head at how much had gone wrong, from bad to worse, in such short time.
"His majesty's last words were most troubling, not only king Merthyr expressly forbade me from following him but he confessed on the way here that the former governor, Sir Henry Morgan, is a pirate in his own right and assured me that not even kings are safe here." revealed Taff feeding logs to the fire "I have not heard or seen this for myself but if true, that can only mean the king's cousin is a traitor who will not be arranging any ransom after all and it also means these pirates won't leave any tree standing or stone unturned until they find me too. We must rest whilst we can but be on alert just in case..." warned Taff making Xochi aware of the ongoing danger.
"Now tell me, what is your name? are you the last of your kind too or are there others like you?" questioned Taff thoughtfully
Taff nodded acceptance at Mark's offer of water and looked up at Rin to pick up the left conversation.
"I guess you're right, lad, especially now that king Conrad is dead and all the coinage was changed to display king Merthyr's head, many folk are likely to notice him more. You took me by surprise, though, I admit you have a keen eye for detail, few relate royalty with poorly dressed runaway slaves, at a glance, in the spur of the moment" accepted and complimented Taff not about to question her well made point.
"What about yourselves? I see by your marking that you too were slaves onboard The Wester's Light, what got you to such dire position?" asked Taff curious to learn more about their companions.
"You delivered healing as promised so I am now going to tell you all about me. A deal is a deal after all" nodded Taff with a brief smile of relief to see Tye well and recovering
"My name is Taff Gelligen, I am the king's manservant, a slave of the royal household. My druid name is Emris which means immortal because I am made of magic and I heal very quickly. I am a warlock, the last of dragonlords left in the lands where I come from, far up north. Back at the Emmerald Island, the celts explained to me my magic and blood are partly dragonborn, hence I call you kin, and partly druid. When I was very little the Northen folk told me that my magic flows from ancient dragons and nature itself, from the elements, but don't ask me it's all too confusing to unravel, I was too little to understand then and there's none of your kind or mine or even them left there to ask about it now.
See our lands were raided soon after I was told these things and men, women and children were put to the sword. I managed to escape the massacre but I became a slave, a trophy, a prisoner of war. Once the raids were over, a merchant purchased quite a few of us slaves when he was delivering sugar and tea and sent us all here to be sold on for a profit, many of them to work in the plantations, others doing servile chores at the rich households. Upon reaching these distant lands, I was put on a stand to be sold to the highest bidder. King Conrad was there at the time, he had arrived from a voyage, he saw me and bought me to serve his son Merthyr who was of similar age and I have done so to date.
Not long after I arrived in Port Royal, an epidemic quickly spread throughout King Conrad's realm, the healers blamed the foreign slaves for bringing in the disease that killed queen Leandra and the princesses Leonora and Alejandra, barely sparing prince Merthyr from such terrible illness with my well concealed gift. The king's royal advisors on the other hand accused us northen slaves from making use of sorcery and dark magic to bring about the queen's death, all the slaves from my ship were located and executed to ensure such curse would not strike again. All but me because prince Merthyr refused to hand me over and the king would never dare upset his son, his last remaining child. For his sake, king Conrad made an exception of me, he spared me. Since then magic has been banned under penalty of death, using it is high treason, so no one must know I've got it. King Merthyr doesn't know either as of yet" admitted Taff feeling he was cheating his best friend by not telling him the whole truth.
"Over the years, the prince and I grew up so fond and close to one another, we have never been apart till today, I could say we're best friends by now, he feels like a big protective brother of mine and we have each other's back. I've healed him many a times and he has spared my life many a times too. Even today he worried more about me than himself see... he arranged this whole escapade simply to keep me out of danger at his own expense. I fear he will pay dearly for this because I am a slave of these pirates, number forty five, they'll see my release as theft and pirates don't like thieves, not in the least." sighed Taff clearly troubled about the risks Merthyr had taken because of him.
"There won't be a ransom either, there cannot be one, not this time. There's no one left to make good on the bargain, no one left to bring over the vast sums these thugs may expect and oversee the exchange. A few months ago, when king Conrad was alive, he might have negotiated for his son's release and brought the payment over under parlay. Even his cousin, Sir Henry Morgan, being the governor at the time, might have negotiated terms on behalf of the royal household to ensure his highness safe return and deliver the ransom. But with king Conrad dead, his appointed governor is no more. No one can touch a gold piece out of the royal vaults but the king himself who happens to be here, stranded on this forsaken island, and they certainly won't take him back to Port Royal, it is the most heavily armed city in the realm, to go anywhere near it would be marching straight to an immediate, inevitable death for these pirates. " reasoned Taff
"We were actually travelling to Port Royal to formally appoint the new governor, following king Conrad's death and king Merthyr's coronation, when our ship was wrecked by the storms in the dead of night. It took me completely by surprise, there was nothing I could do to calm the furious weather, the crashing waves, by the time I woke up and realized what was going on, it was too late already. I barely managed to keep both of us afloat. The merchant Roland passed a few hours after, he rescued us but enslaved us in return, he certainly offers no free passage to anyone. We did our best to keep the head down and work hard like the rest onboard, without standing out or talking much. Then his ship crashed in the rocks, just for these brigands to lay hands on us immediately after that." muttered Taff shaking his head at how much had gone wrong, from bad to worse, in such short time.
"His majesty's last words were most troubling, not only king Merthyr expressly forbade me from following him but he confessed on the way here that the former governor, Sir Henry Morgan, is a pirate in his own right and assured me that not even kings are safe here." revealed Taff feeding logs to the fire "I have not heard or seen this for myself but if true, that can only mean the king's cousin is a traitor who will not be arranging any ransom after all and it also means these pirates won't leave any tree standing or stone unturned until they find me too. We must rest whilst we can but be on alert just in case..." warned Taff making Xochi aware of the ongoing danger.
"Now tell me, what is your name? are you the last of your kind too or are there others like you?" questioned Taff thoughtfully
Taff nodded acceptance at Mark's offer of water and looked up at Rin to pick up the left conversation.
"I guess you're right, lad, especially now that king Conrad is dead and all the coinage was changed to display king Merthyr's head, many folk are likely to notice him more. You took me by surprise, though, I admit you have a keen eye for detail, few relate royalty with poorly dressed runaway slaves, at a glance, in the spur of the moment" accepted and complimented Taff not about to question her well made point.
"What about yourselves? I see by your marking that you too were slaves onboard The Wester's Light, what got you to such dire position?" asked Taff curious to learn more about their companions.
Sirina felt antsy, edgy with the little they could do here, secluded. Granted it seemed the storm's rage was much depleted here, but she didn't want to hide forever. How would they get off the island? How would she get home when it was time?
After Tye drank the offered water, she moved a bit away to give the healing trio space. Near the temple, she paced a bit, her bare feet quiet on the stone, moss, and tangled vines which covered the earth. Her gaze moved between her own path, and the temple which rose above, her thoughts a whirl of regret and indecision.
After a time, she became aware of Taff speaking to the dragon. His words, while seemingly directed only to the dragon, could be heard softly. His words softened the angry wondering of her mind, as it seemed prince - no- King Merthyr had no intentions for now of betraying her father, and the peace. Yet there was betrayal. The governor a pirate? Was he responsible? There was no way for her to get answers while stuck in here, especially not while everyone thought she was a boy. Yet it was certainly still safest to protect her identity, and she took a deep breath, settling on the conclusion to keep her own secrets for a while longer. It certainly wasn't easy to go about as a mucky bedraggled boy, yet... it must be done.
Finally, as Taff glanced her way and responded to her earlier words, she moved closer and when he finished, dipped her head in acknowledgement while also accepting the water from Mark. Not knowing if Taff's question was directed at her, she merely offered in a quiet voice, "I wasn't a slave aboard, rather a ships boy.. crew. I signed on voluntarily when the shipped docked in my city. I wanted adventure. I didn't know then that it was a slave ship." Then under her breath she muttered, "looks like I got what I asked for.."
Rising again she looked to the others, "As soon as the storm abates some, I am going out to look around the island, see if there might be a way off." Her gaze was firm, and the tilt to her chin showed she wouldn't be talked out of the idea, pirates though there may be. Then, stomach growling, she glanced to the surrounding foliage. Glancing to Xochi she asked, "are there edible plants nearby?"
After Tye drank the offered water, she moved a bit away to give the healing trio space. Near the temple, she paced a bit, her bare feet quiet on the stone, moss, and tangled vines which covered the earth. Her gaze moved between her own path, and the temple which rose above, her thoughts a whirl of regret and indecision.
After a time, she became aware of Taff speaking to the dragon. His words, while seemingly directed only to the dragon, could be heard softly. His words softened the angry wondering of her mind, as it seemed prince - no- King Merthyr had no intentions for now of betraying her father, and the peace. Yet there was betrayal. The governor a pirate? Was he responsible? There was no way for her to get answers while stuck in here, especially not while everyone thought she was a boy. Yet it was certainly still safest to protect her identity, and she took a deep breath, settling on the conclusion to keep her own secrets for a while longer. It certainly wasn't easy to go about as a mucky bedraggled boy, yet... it must be done.
Finally, as Taff glanced her way and responded to her earlier words, she moved closer and when he finished, dipped her head in acknowledgement while also accepting the water from Mark. Not knowing if Taff's question was directed at her, she merely offered in a quiet voice, "I wasn't a slave aboard, rather a ships boy.. crew. I signed on voluntarily when the shipped docked in my city. I wanted adventure. I didn't know then that it was a slave ship." Then under her breath she muttered, "looks like I got what I asked for.."
Rising again she looked to the others, "As soon as the storm abates some, I am going out to look around the island, see if there might be a way off." Her gaze was firm, and the tilt to her chin showed she wouldn't be talked out of the idea, pirates though there may be. Then, stomach growling, she glanced to the surrounding foliage. Glancing to Xochi she asked, "are there edible plants nearby?"
Taff kept quiet and considered, seeing nothing wrong in a poor lad looking for adventure and perhaps some fortune onboard a merchant's ship thus would not question his motives further. His clothes already revealed he came from a hard pressed background and clearly he did not wish to expand further on that.
Xochi listened to Taff’s story, immediately interested in the odd tale. “Kin from across the sea…” the dragon murmured and was quiet as she listened to the rest of his story fully. When he was finished and asked her questions of his own, she sighed, making her scaly sides rise and deflate with her long breath.
“I am of Xochitlcoatl. Serpent of the flowers.” She paused for a moment in thought. “You may call me Xochi, if you please.” When Taff was handed the water, she looked to the makeshift cup and lowered her head to it to take a sip if he would allow. Xochi looked back up to him, a droplet of water under her scaly chin. “There were more of my kind…are still yet…I can feel it in my bones. But the number dwindles as time passes on. I think only a few of the villages of my home land still hold us in reverence…” Xochi tilted her head down in thought and hugged onto Taff; almost as if for comfort. Her little front claws curled under her body as she got comfortable laying upon him.
The dragon thought back to the time when the temples dedicated to her kind were full with activity. Those splendid early memories were soft and warm for her. Dragons and humans had once lived together with mutual respect and understanding for one another. It was considered sacrilegious to hunt or harm her kind then… but after years of war and strife their numbers had dwindled as people forgot their dragon brethren; they were pushed out of their homes and temples and it was rare now to see a coatl dragon among humans. And rarer still to find a village with a local deity that would still interact with them…
Xochi spoke up once more, “My kin’s powers have weakened over time, and I have been reduced to what you see now.” She fluttered her wings and opened them slightly. The dragons of her region found that being smaller meant it was easier to hide and escape from poachers. Xochi coiled close to the warlock and enjoyed his warmth and continued as her yellow eyes peered into his. “-But if I can aide you in anyway I would be happy to.”
She looked to Sirina and listened to her story now. Her feathers rustled in the wind as the storm picked up, rain was beginning to fall in earnest now. Xochi lifted her head and turned to look towards the temple in suggestion, “Hmm.. I think I saw some fruits growing on the trees nearby. You could also try searching for edible tubers and roots. Shall I look with you?” The serpentine creature opened her wings slightly and looked to the girl; looking as though she wished to fly to her and be a sort of guide to help point out which plants were edible.
“I am of Xochitlcoatl. Serpent of the flowers.” She paused for a moment in thought. “You may call me Xochi, if you please.” When Taff was handed the water, she looked to the makeshift cup and lowered her head to it to take a sip if he would allow. Xochi looked back up to him, a droplet of water under her scaly chin. “There were more of my kind…are still yet…I can feel it in my bones. But the number dwindles as time passes on. I think only a few of the villages of my home land still hold us in reverence…” Xochi tilted her head down in thought and hugged onto Taff; almost as if for comfort. Her little front claws curled under her body as she got comfortable laying upon him.
The dragon thought back to the time when the temples dedicated to her kind were full with activity. Those splendid early memories were soft and warm for her. Dragons and humans had once lived together with mutual respect and understanding for one another. It was considered sacrilegious to hunt or harm her kind then… but after years of war and strife their numbers had dwindled as people forgot their dragon brethren; they were pushed out of their homes and temples and it was rare now to see a coatl dragon among humans. And rarer still to find a village with a local deity that would still interact with them…
Xochi spoke up once more, “My kin’s powers have weakened over time, and I have been reduced to what you see now.” She fluttered her wings and opened them slightly. The dragons of her region found that being smaller meant it was easier to hide and escape from poachers. Xochi coiled close to the warlock and enjoyed his warmth and continued as her yellow eyes peered into his. “-But if I can aide you in anyway I would be happy to.”
She looked to Sirina and listened to her story now. Her feathers rustled in the wind as the storm picked up, rain was beginning to fall in earnest now. Xochi lifted her head and turned to look towards the temple in suggestion, “Hmm.. I think I saw some fruits growing on the trees nearby. You could also try searching for edible tubers and roots. Shall I look with you?” The serpentine creature opened her wings slightly and looked to the girl; looking as though she wished to fly to her and be a sort of guide to help point out which plants were edible.
(I know what the profile says but right now Tye only has white pants that go to the knee. Mark is the same. Just to avoid confusion.)
Both Tye and Mark listened to the tale Taff disclosed; though the two had very different opinions on the man's plight. Though it was Tye who owed him and the coatl dragon his life he was not quick to empathize with a king; especially not one who's code of honor seemed so strange. Mark on the other hand thought of Taff and his liege with healthy respect, evident on the patient, soft expression he took while lending an ear. When the druid was done telling his story the thief chimed in with a short, "Y'should give yerself more respect."
The older slave shot Tye a quizzical look, to which he received a nonchalant shrug. "He's got a gift none of them have. An' they rely on it, while condemnin' it at the same time. Its just not a good deal." Mark tilted his head- it was true, at least from what they heard- but replied coolly, "Sometimes its more worthwhile to take risks for those closest to them, even if the others don't understand." The thief huffed at this and said no more on the matter; it wouldn't make much a difference to him either way, right?
The two both stayed and listened as Rin, then Xochi spoke at the druid's request. Neither Tye or Mark were keen on interrupting the two. When the dragon was done Mark gave her a look that betrayed his empathy. Tye, on the other hand, simply pondered all of their circumstances before adding to the story circle.
"My name's Tye. I don't tend to keep it a secret because who the hell hasn't known a Ty in their lives?" The older man chuckled at that.
Tye continued. "Wus kidnapped by some loser named Roldan. Had me pegged as a thief, though its anyone's guess what I stole from 'im. Wouldn't explain. Knew me by name though, so 'e must be crazy. Hope 'e isn' around 'ere."
He fidgeted with a tiny, fallen branch which fell from the tree he sat under. "Hasn' been my first case of it, though. I've not much a life to return to, so yer not goin' t' find much there that's interestin'. Just a traveler. Wanted to see more than' th' seedy little cess pit I grew up in. Guess we both got our wishes granted, eh?" The boy laughed- it was still a bit hoarse but he didn't seem to be bothered by it.
"An' 'ey, if you're the sort of dragon that grows each time I do somethin', just tell me what it is. We'd be doin' the world a favor by gettin' rid of this lot." He flashed a malicious grin but lowered his gaze and waved a hand to show he wasn't actually that bloodthirsty. He wasn't... yet.
The two did not add to the topic of fruits but Mark nodded at Xochi's offer. If he couldn't see the dragon's poising toward Rin he would have extended an arm himself and looked forward to an opportunity to help in return.
Both Tye and Mark listened to the tale Taff disclosed; though the two had very different opinions on the man's plight. Though it was Tye who owed him and the coatl dragon his life he was not quick to empathize with a king; especially not one who's code of honor seemed so strange. Mark on the other hand thought of Taff and his liege with healthy respect, evident on the patient, soft expression he took while lending an ear. When the druid was done telling his story the thief chimed in with a short, "Y'should give yerself more respect."
The older slave shot Tye a quizzical look, to which he received a nonchalant shrug. "He's got a gift none of them have. An' they rely on it, while condemnin' it at the same time. Its just not a good deal." Mark tilted his head- it was true, at least from what they heard- but replied coolly, "Sometimes its more worthwhile to take risks for those closest to them, even if the others don't understand." The thief huffed at this and said no more on the matter; it wouldn't make much a difference to him either way, right?
The two both stayed and listened as Rin, then Xochi spoke at the druid's request. Neither Tye or Mark were keen on interrupting the two. When the dragon was done Mark gave her a look that betrayed his empathy. Tye, on the other hand, simply pondered all of their circumstances before adding to the story circle.
"My name's Tye. I don't tend to keep it a secret because who the hell hasn't known a Ty in their lives?" The older man chuckled at that.
Tye continued. "Wus kidnapped by some loser named Roldan. Had me pegged as a thief, though its anyone's guess what I stole from 'im. Wouldn't explain. Knew me by name though, so 'e must be crazy. Hope 'e isn' around 'ere."
He fidgeted with a tiny, fallen branch which fell from the tree he sat under. "Hasn' been my first case of it, though. I've not much a life to return to, so yer not goin' t' find much there that's interestin'. Just a traveler. Wanted to see more than' th' seedy little cess pit I grew up in. Guess we both got our wishes granted, eh?" The boy laughed- it was still a bit hoarse but he didn't seem to be bothered by it.
"An' 'ey, if you're the sort of dragon that grows each time I do somethin', just tell me what it is. We'd be doin' the world a favor by gettin' rid of this lot." He flashed a malicious grin but lowered his gaze and waved a hand to show he wasn't actually that bloodthirsty. He wasn't... yet.
The two did not add to the topic of fruits but Mark nodded at Xochi's offer. If he couldn't see the dragon's poising toward Rin he would have extended an arm himself and looked forward to an opportunity to help in return.
Taff Gelligen looked around briefly and thoughtfully, turning to admire the temple rubbing his chin thoughtfully
"We could risk going out in an errand to look for food and endanger ourselves without assurance of finding any... or we could pick these trees and bushes here and change their very nature by commanding they be something edible instead, a refuge for us now and survival for those that are to come after.
These vines turned into grape vines bursting with fruits, that tree, we make it yield wholesome apples, the leaves to become salad, this pile of dust into flour, the rock be a chicken and out of.... hmmm... these large leaves... some gold leafy plates," mused Taff muttering druids words at each touch, deed and change. He took the makeshift cups Mark had woven turning them into solid gold, not about to dismiss his hard work, they were shallow but sealed that wouldn't leak any water.
"You guys gather up the fruits and bring them over, I'll just cook us the bread and keep an eye on the meat in the meantime... it'll take me a little while to be able to stand again." admitted Taff sitting by the camp fire
"But remember the first of everything is for the spirits and Xochi... and no stealing either Tye... your reputation precedes you... what is taken from here, remains here" warned and muttered Taff sitting back onto his toes, yet again making himself a useful servant by cooking
He would cook the wheat tortillas on the hot rocks. The chicken skewed and roasting over the hot coals too, happy to serve the rest as he always did, after all he was but a servant.
"Better eat while we can, once the storm is passed we must try to continue our journey. I gave my word we would not impose after all" reminded Taff focusing on the chores and leaving the rest to gather the fruits
Merthyr frowned upon seeing the building within sight and reach, part of him longing to escape but refraining from making matters worse
"We could risk going out in an errand to look for food and endanger ourselves without assurance of finding any... or we could pick these trees and bushes here and change their very nature by commanding they be something edible instead, a refuge for us now and survival for those that are to come after.
These vines turned into grape vines bursting with fruits, that tree, we make it yield wholesome apples, the leaves to become salad, this pile of dust into flour, the rock be a chicken and out of.... hmmm... these large leaves... some gold leafy plates," mused Taff muttering druids words at each touch, deed and change. He took the makeshift cups Mark had woven turning them into solid gold, not about to dismiss his hard work, they were shallow but sealed that wouldn't leak any water.
"You guys gather up the fruits and bring them over, I'll just cook us the bread and keep an eye on the meat in the meantime... it'll take me a little while to be able to stand again." admitted Taff sitting by the camp fire
"But remember the first of everything is for the spirits and Xochi... and no stealing either Tye... your reputation precedes you... what is taken from here, remains here" warned and muttered Taff sitting back onto his toes, yet again making himself a useful servant by cooking
He would cook the wheat tortillas on the hot rocks. The chicken skewed and roasting over the hot coals too, happy to serve the rest as he always did, after all he was but a servant.
"Better eat while we can, once the storm is passed we must try to continue our journey. I gave my word we would not impose after all" reminded Taff focusing on the chores and leaving the rest to gather the fruits
Merthyr frowned upon seeing the building within sight and reach, part of him longing to escape but refraining from making matters worse
After Xochi's words, and glance, Sirina had lifted her arm promptly to provide a new resting place for the small dragon, happy to have the intelligent creature along. She didn't leave right away, however, listening instead to Tye and Marks words. Curiousity in her gaze, as well as sympathy for Tye's plight. She didn't allow her gaze to linger ling on any of the men however, as they all seemed to be shirtless at the moment. This was something she'd grown accustomed to aboard the boat, and it no longer sent flames to her cheeks, yet it always caused the awkwardness to arise within her. Her mind moved back to Tye's words...
Despite her father, nor any king's best attempts at providing a peaceful place for their people to live, there would always be the seemier sides of town. There were always those that thrived on suffering, most particularly the suffering of others. It was a hard reminder to even Sirina that good intentions fell flat when it came to following through on keeping the streets clean of thugs and other criminals. But she knew better than many, that while it seemed the king could take care of all problems, he was still a man, and did not have unlimited resources, nor men to scour the city. Sadly, it was most important to keep attention and resources on their lands borders, including the sea, so that the kingdom would not fall to invaders.
Once the others seemed to be done with their stories, Sirina took a breath and turned to head toward the exit, hoping to find food nearby. Yet Taff's voice halted her once again. Turning, she beheld him take into his own hands the creation of provisions. As she watched, anger flashed in her gaze and her shoulders stiffened. How dare he so casually change the nature of the world, the things which were needed for the natural courses of life. Despite their hunger Sirina would never have condoned such a choice. While in her kingdom, magic was not inherantly frowned upon, guilds had been created, and precautions taken to ensure that no took advantage of the powers granted them. They were taught which things were not to be tampered with to such a degree.
Sirina turned briskly and continued walking toward the sanctuary's exit, not looking back, she did pause just before she left to see if the dragon wished to fly to another perch, as her own quest was now made uncessesary. Sirina wouldn't partake of these provisions though. After the pause, with or without Xochi, she would leave tbe sanctuary behind for the time being, moving back out where the waterfall fell, adding peace to the otherwise stormy atmosphere and feelings within her own mind. Not speaking, she scanned the area, then decided to move a ways back in the direction they'd come from watching for likely sources of food.
She took care to move as silently as she was able, yet with the howling of the wind it didn't matter too much, as many sounds were already muted. Her shortened hair ruffled and blew, despite her still being mostly protected by the many trees around. As she walked she checked to make sure the knife was still safely tucked into her waistline.
Despite her father, nor any king's best attempts at providing a peaceful place for their people to live, there would always be the seemier sides of town. There were always those that thrived on suffering, most particularly the suffering of others. It was a hard reminder to even Sirina that good intentions fell flat when it came to following through on keeping the streets clean of thugs and other criminals. But she knew better than many, that while it seemed the king could take care of all problems, he was still a man, and did not have unlimited resources, nor men to scour the city. Sadly, it was most important to keep attention and resources on their lands borders, including the sea, so that the kingdom would not fall to invaders.
Once the others seemed to be done with their stories, Sirina took a breath and turned to head toward the exit, hoping to find food nearby. Yet Taff's voice halted her once again. Turning, she beheld him take into his own hands the creation of provisions. As she watched, anger flashed in her gaze and her shoulders stiffened. How dare he so casually change the nature of the world, the things which were needed for the natural courses of life. Despite their hunger Sirina would never have condoned such a choice. While in her kingdom, magic was not inherantly frowned upon, guilds had been created, and precautions taken to ensure that no took advantage of the powers granted them. They were taught which things were not to be tampered with to such a degree.
Sirina turned briskly and continued walking toward the sanctuary's exit, not looking back, she did pause just before she left to see if the dragon wished to fly to another perch, as her own quest was now made uncessesary. Sirina wouldn't partake of these provisions though. After the pause, with or without Xochi, she would leave tbe sanctuary behind for the time being, moving back out where the waterfall fell, adding peace to the otherwise stormy atmosphere and feelings within her own mind. Not speaking, she scanned the area, then decided to move a ways back in the direction they'd come from watching for likely sources of food.
She took care to move as silently as she was able, yet with the howling of the wind it didn't matter too much, as many sounds were already muted. Her shortened hair ruffled and blew, despite her still being mostly protected by the many trees around. As she walked she checked to make sure the knife was still safely tucked into her waistline.
Xochi looked to Tye unblinkingly when he addressed her. “There is actually…but it takes something of value in exchange for the power to destroy. I assume most humans in this era would be unwilling accept the conditions. Those who would be willing to do so would likely be the sort I would rather avoid.”
She looked at the boy fully for a moment in assessment; her eyes unwavering from his until he looked away. She was no creature of chaos and bloodshed. But it was true that she could put up a fight when need be, but fighting another creature's battles would take much consideration and convincing.
She watched now as Taff conjured various fruits and objects; and though she was surprised, it wouldn’t show physically to the rest of the group. She looked at the foreign fruits for a moment and flicked her tongue out curiously at them, such magic must surely be a trick of the eyes. Perhaps they would fill their stomachs with them, but found themselves starved or oddly filled with what had been the origin matter. But if this sorcery was indeed valid, the dragon suspected they would wither and die without the energy of the warlock… or if left alone would fare poorly in the tropic conditions.
Instead she asked him, “Ah… would it not be wise to conserve your magic? Foraging in this area would give plenty of food.” But Taff’s comment to leave some as an offering for the local spirits was appreciated all the same.
“But thank you for the offer, may the spirits accept your gift.” Xochi replied to the warlock before leaving him to flit to Sirina’s arm. Her little front claws caught on the female’s long sleeves when she landed, and carefully climbed up her arm to rest on her shoulders, her cool scales and smooth feathers pressed against the human’s skin; admittedly looking a little gaudy in contrast to the refugee’s rather dull and tattered clothes.
She looked at the boy fully for a moment in assessment; her eyes unwavering from his until he looked away. She was no creature of chaos and bloodshed. But it was true that she could put up a fight when need be, but fighting another creature's battles would take much consideration and convincing.
She watched now as Taff conjured various fruits and objects; and though she was surprised, it wouldn’t show physically to the rest of the group. She looked at the foreign fruits for a moment and flicked her tongue out curiously at them, such magic must surely be a trick of the eyes. Perhaps they would fill their stomachs with them, but found themselves starved or oddly filled with what had been the origin matter. But if this sorcery was indeed valid, the dragon suspected they would wither and die without the energy of the warlock… or if left alone would fare poorly in the tropic conditions.
Instead she asked him, “Ah… would it not be wise to conserve your magic? Foraging in this area would give plenty of food.” But Taff’s comment to leave some as an offering for the local spirits was appreciated all the same.
“But thank you for the offer, may the spirits accept your gift.” Xochi replied to the warlock before leaving him to flit to Sirina’s arm. Her little front claws caught on the female’s long sleeves when she landed, and carefully climbed up her arm to rest on her shoulders, her cool scales and smooth feathers pressed against the human’s skin; admittedly looking a little gaudy in contrast to the refugee’s rather dull and tattered clothes.
Slender arms methodically rotated in unison, shifting a twin pair of oars to cut into the water and propel her pilfered rowboat at a lazy pace towards the shoreline. Only one quick glance over a shoulder was all she needed to guide her, permitting her saffron gaze to happily return to the large pirate ship she had left sabotaged just a few moments prior. A wide smile snatched the corners of her lips as she watched the crew scurry about in confusion as to why their ship no longer functioned, pride welling up inside of her for a plan gone right, for once.
Great effort had gone into finding this particular ship, greater still in garnering passage on it. There were two professions for an aspiring female deckhand to pursue when aboard a vessel with a less than savory crew. One was a wench and the other was a slave who more often than not became a wench. Neither would be acceptable. The only other options were to stowaway, which came with its own risks that typically outweighed the rewards, and the other was pretending to be the opposing gender, a thought that might have disgusted her even more than spreading her legs. Beauty was a thing to be treasured, preserved, and displayed. Or more importantly, a tool to wield to get what she needed when she needed it. Men were weak. Well, most men were weak.
This Captain was the former. A subtle wink, a slyly suggestive twist of her hips, a gentle flip of errant hair. It was all that was needed to have him eating out of her hands. Despite complaints from the crew and an endless stream of sideways glances of either distrust or disagreement, the Captain’s opinion was all that mattered, and she flaunted her new found authority the entire voyage. Should anyone dare to cross her, a simple threat about reporting such behavior would quickly silence them. This left only one problem, keeping the Captain’s hands off of her long enough to reach their destination. It hadn’t been easy, consuming every trick she had in the book to delay and postpone his advances, even conjuring up new, intricate, and downright bizarre excuses that would someday make a great story. Luckily for her, the day she finally ran out was the day the mainland came into view.
In the wee hours of the morning when everyone slept soundly, she crept from her quarters, gathered her belongings, and sprung her trap. Footsteps taken with feminine grace carried her quietly down into the steering gear room where she cut the tiller ropes from both ends. Hands then fell onto the free tiller, and she pushed until the rudder turned, changing the ship's heading ever so slightly to face away from land. With a few blunt strikes from a metal rod, she broke the wooden shaft off at its base, then drove the rod down into the exposed gears to ensure it stayed on that heading. As an added precaution, she removed every pulley she could reach and tossed them out a porthole. She knew the Chief Engineer, and she knew how capable he was. This would help delay him.
The ruckus had awoken the nearest sleeping deckhand, whom she met at the doorway upon exiting as he came to investigate the commotion. Before he could inquire, she drew her sword and ran him through without a second thought, her other hand sealing his mouth shut until he no longer withheld the capacity to make noise. There was no hesitation or pause in her response, each motion taken as if they had been pre planned, her body fluidly transitioning from one action to the next with practiced lethality. His motionless corpse was laid down softly, his clothes now serving only to dry her blade before it returned to its sheath. She didn’t have the time or strength to move the body and would have to hope it remained undiscovered long enough.
She made her way into the lowermost bilges, tapping on the port bulkhead of the ship’s outer hull until the echoes determined precisely where the draft was. Fingering two boards up, she then traveled aft to the thin skeg void, finding the most rotted piece of wood there to take a modified bottle opener and bore a hole straight through the shell. A few more were added along the starboard side as time permitted, allowing water to splash into the vessel at the crest of each steady wave. They would find this leak, but it would take significant effort to contain it once the draft of the vessel matched that of the holes.
Satisfied, she crept up to the weather deck, stopping by the kitchen on the way to acquire oil and rags, which she used to create a makeshift torch. A drinking contest had been arranged the night prior between her and the watchman stationed in the crow’s nest. He was a difficult man to drink under the table; pity for him he never realized her bottle was full of water. Once out in the open air, she could see that a storm was beginning to crest over the distant horizon, offering a new sense of urgency. One by one, rowboats were set aflame and then cut from their moorings, falling into the water below to be carried away. The torch was harmlessly discarded after the last boat, her boat, was released. If she burned their ship down here, survivors might swim to shore and cause… complications.
Agile legs carried her in one swift leap onto the railing, but before she could dive into the cool dark waters, a voice from behind her compelled her to stop. She recognized it without turning as the one regret she had hoped to not meet this morning. It was the ship’s Chief Engineer, a smart young lad who had always treated her with the utmost courtesy, regardless of how much trouble he caught in return from his fellow crewman. In another life, perhaps she would have gotten to know him better. In this one, however, she had no choice but to turn her head and offer only a smile and a two fingered salute, waiting just a half second for a response before his face vanished from view as she plunged into the wet abyss.
“Thanks for the ride!” She shouted at the myriad of bodies now scrambling around the deck, some staring at her in bewilderment, others desperately attempting to get their vessel under control, others still offering colorful profanities in her direction. The storm, still distant on the horizon, was preceded by heavy winds, and though they held no sway over her tiny boat, were rapidly carrying the doomed crew out into the distant ocean, she hoped never to be seen again.
She rowed for hours with only the ocean for companionship, consuming the entirety of the morning to approach the mainland, its features finally taking shape just as mid afternoon began to tick by. The distant storm had easily caught up to her, threatening to drop a deluge of rain that would rapidly fill and subsequently sink her transport if she failed to make landfall, not to mention drench her clothing that she had already dried out once. To complicate matters, waves empowered by the wind were beginning to fight back, and the muscles in her arms burned from the strain to keep her heading straight. She would make it, she had too. She had come too far now.
“Calico Jack, I have finally caught up with you.” She mused to herself, throwing a brief glance over her shoulder to gauge how soon she would run aground, but instead catching subtle movement along the tree line. Had she been spotted already? Arms redoubled their efforts as she crossed the reef, oars splitting the water like a knife in the shallower and calmer shoreline. Whoever that was could not be allowed to report her arrival to the pirates, by whatever means necessary.
Great effort had gone into finding this particular ship, greater still in garnering passage on it. There were two professions for an aspiring female deckhand to pursue when aboard a vessel with a less than savory crew. One was a wench and the other was a slave who more often than not became a wench. Neither would be acceptable. The only other options were to stowaway, which came with its own risks that typically outweighed the rewards, and the other was pretending to be the opposing gender, a thought that might have disgusted her even more than spreading her legs. Beauty was a thing to be treasured, preserved, and displayed. Or more importantly, a tool to wield to get what she needed when she needed it. Men were weak. Well, most men were weak.
This Captain was the former. A subtle wink, a slyly suggestive twist of her hips, a gentle flip of errant hair. It was all that was needed to have him eating out of her hands. Despite complaints from the crew and an endless stream of sideways glances of either distrust or disagreement, the Captain’s opinion was all that mattered, and she flaunted her new found authority the entire voyage. Should anyone dare to cross her, a simple threat about reporting such behavior would quickly silence them. This left only one problem, keeping the Captain’s hands off of her long enough to reach their destination. It hadn’t been easy, consuming every trick she had in the book to delay and postpone his advances, even conjuring up new, intricate, and downright bizarre excuses that would someday make a great story. Luckily for her, the day she finally ran out was the day the mainland came into view.
In the wee hours of the morning when everyone slept soundly, she crept from her quarters, gathered her belongings, and sprung her trap. Footsteps taken with feminine grace carried her quietly down into the steering gear room where she cut the tiller ropes from both ends. Hands then fell onto the free tiller, and she pushed until the rudder turned, changing the ship's heading ever so slightly to face away from land. With a few blunt strikes from a metal rod, she broke the wooden shaft off at its base, then drove the rod down into the exposed gears to ensure it stayed on that heading. As an added precaution, she removed every pulley she could reach and tossed them out a porthole. She knew the Chief Engineer, and she knew how capable he was. This would help delay him.
The ruckus had awoken the nearest sleeping deckhand, whom she met at the doorway upon exiting as he came to investigate the commotion. Before he could inquire, she drew her sword and ran him through without a second thought, her other hand sealing his mouth shut until he no longer withheld the capacity to make noise. There was no hesitation or pause in her response, each motion taken as if they had been pre planned, her body fluidly transitioning from one action to the next with practiced lethality. His motionless corpse was laid down softly, his clothes now serving only to dry her blade before it returned to its sheath. She didn’t have the time or strength to move the body and would have to hope it remained undiscovered long enough.
She made her way into the lowermost bilges, tapping on the port bulkhead of the ship’s outer hull until the echoes determined precisely where the draft was. Fingering two boards up, she then traveled aft to the thin skeg void, finding the most rotted piece of wood there to take a modified bottle opener and bore a hole straight through the shell. A few more were added along the starboard side as time permitted, allowing water to splash into the vessel at the crest of each steady wave. They would find this leak, but it would take significant effort to contain it once the draft of the vessel matched that of the holes.
Satisfied, she crept up to the weather deck, stopping by the kitchen on the way to acquire oil and rags, which she used to create a makeshift torch. A drinking contest had been arranged the night prior between her and the watchman stationed in the crow’s nest. He was a difficult man to drink under the table; pity for him he never realized her bottle was full of water. Once out in the open air, she could see that a storm was beginning to crest over the distant horizon, offering a new sense of urgency. One by one, rowboats were set aflame and then cut from their moorings, falling into the water below to be carried away. The torch was harmlessly discarded after the last boat, her boat, was released. If she burned their ship down here, survivors might swim to shore and cause… complications.
Agile legs carried her in one swift leap onto the railing, but before she could dive into the cool dark waters, a voice from behind her compelled her to stop. She recognized it without turning as the one regret she had hoped to not meet this morning. It was the ship’s Chief Engineer, a smart young lad who had always treated her with the utmost courtesy, regardless of how much trouble he caught in return from his fellow crewman. In another life, perhaps she would have gotten to know him better. In this one, however, she had no choice but to turn her head and offer only a smile and a two fingered salute, waiting just a half second for a response before his face vanished from view as she plunged into the wet abyss.
“Thanks for the ride!” She shouted at the myriad of bodies now scrambling around the deck, some staring at her in bewilderment, others desperately attempting to get their vessel under control, others still offering colorful profanities in her direction. The storm, still distant on the horizon, was preceded by heavy winds, and though they held no sway over her tiny boat, were rapidly carrying the doomed crew out into the distant ocean, she hoped never to be seen again.
She rowed for hours with only the ocean for companionship, consuming the entirety of the morning to approach the mainland, its features finally taking shape just as mid afternoon began to tick by. The distant storm had easily caught up to her, threatening to drop a deluge of rain that would rapidly fill and subsequently sink her transport if she failed to make landfall, not to mention drench her clothing that she had already dried out once. To complicate matters, waves empowered by the wind were beginning to fight back, and the muscles in her arms burned from the strain to keep her heading straight. She would make it, she had too. She had come too far now.
“Calico Jack, I have finally caught up with you.” She mused to herself, throwing a brief glance over her shoulder to gauge how soon she would run aground, but instead catching subtle movement along the tree line. Had she been spotted already? Arms redoubled their efforts as she crossed the reef, oars splitting the water like a knife in the shallower and calmer shoreline. Whoever that was could not be allowed to report her arrival to the pirates, by whatever means necessary.
Taff's sorcery did not insult the thief's sensibilities but it certainly made him more wary. The sight of his conjurations, embellished as they were, made the boy think of the aristocrats and burghers that he usually avoided. Though the plates of gold sparked some of his interest he was far too superstitious to think that they'd actually help him in any way, especially on the island.
So when the druid warned him off from them his nostrils flared. "As if.-- Wait, what the 'ell do y' mean, my 'reputation' precedes me? Y' actually believe that crazy merchant? I didn' even steal nothin' from him, 'e probably jus' wanted a scapegoat."
The thief mock-scoffed when Xochi responded to his question about offerings. Though the dragon's intentions were unknown to him her appearance reminded him of earlier times, when mischief and fun was more often on his mind than ambition or adventure. Knowingly or unknowingly it caused him to treat her slightly less seriously- and by extension, less abrasively. The boy's gaze trailed along after Rin as she departed, not at all surprised that someone might be bothered by the conjuring.
Mark looked after her too, though something else was on his mind. He turned toward the two of them, tempted to state that he was to join her while she left but hesitated since the younger slave seemed peeved- and if there was anything he knew of Tye from the ship it was that his anger oft got the best of him.
The boy huffed after a few seconds and folded his arms, a sign of defensive resignation from thoughts of greater violence. This quietly relieved the older man, so he dipped his head in a small bow and commented, "I hope to follow and help them. No matter what, don't fight each other, please. None of us are in good spirits."
Then, though it was after Rin and Xochi went outside Mark followed them out. It would be a small challenge to find them in the foliage but he felt he could do it.
_
Despite all that the other pirates had told him, Chowder seemed not to be deterred from acting chummy with Merthyr. He moved to sling his arm over the captive king's shoulder in a friendly chipper gesture while saying, "It'll all work out, lad, Y' just gotta believe."
"Chowder..." A few of the recently congregated pirates shot him looks of irritable disapproval.
"Wot?"
The few that looked collectively sighed. One said, "Y'got to be careful with prisoners. Usually they wants to escape. He might gut you without a second thought!"
"...You wouldn't do that, would you lad?" He looked at Merthyr with pleading eyes, though it was well within his power to just pull away instead.This close the king would be able to tell he reeked of seaweed and old fish.
Nearby, Goff had found little to nothing in the woods. He was thoroughly enraged by then but on the outside he'd seem only rigid and snappy; more of an ice king than a man who usually throws around insults. He pulled apart a gathering of fibrous matter and watched his step, growing closer to the strand the other pirates walked along but not yet hearing them.
So when the druid warned him off from them his nostrils flared. "As if.-- Wait, what the 'ell do y' mean, my 'reputation' precedes me? Y' actually believe that crazy merchant? I didn' even steal nothin' from him, 'e probably jus' wanted a scapegoat."
The thief mock-scoffed when Xochi responded to his question about offerings. Though the dragon's intentions were unknown to him her appearance reminded him of earlier times, when mischief and fun was more often on his mind than ambition or adventure. Knowingly or unknowingly it caused him to treat her slightly less seriously- and by extension, less abrasively. The boy's gaze trailed along after Rin as she departed, not at all surprised that someone might be bothered by the conjuring.
Mark looked after her too, though something else was on his mind. He turned toward the two of them, tempted to state that he was to join her while she left but hesitated since the younger slave seemed peeved- and if there was anything he knew of Tye from the ship it was that his anger oft got the best of him.
The boy huffed after a few seconds and folded his arms, a sign of defensive resignation from thoughts of greater violence. This quietly relieved the older man, so he dipped his head in a small bow and commented, "I hope to follow and help them. No matter what, don't fight each other, please. None of us are in good spirits."
Then, though it was after Rin and Xochi went outside Mark followed them out. It would be a small challenge to find them in the foliage but he felt he could do it.
_
Despite all that the other pirates had told him, Chowder seemed not to be deterred from acting chummy with Merthyr. He moved to sling his arm over the captive king's shoulder in a friendly chipper gesture while saying, "It'll all work out, lad, Y' just gotta believe."
"Chowder..." A few of the recently congregated pirates shot him looks of irritable disapproval.
"Wot?"
The few that looked collectively sighed. One said, "Y'got to be careful with prisoners. Usually they wants to escape. He might gut you without a second thought!"
"...You wouldn't do that, would you lad?" He looked at Merthyr with pleading eyes, though it was well within his power to just pull away instead.This close the king would be able to tell he reeked of seaweed and old fish.
Nearby, Goff had found little to nothing in the woods. He was thoroughly enraged by then but on the outside he'd seem only rigid and snappy; more of an ice king than a man who usually throws around insults. He pulled apart a gathering of fibrous matter and watched his step, growing closer to the strand the other pirates walked along but not yet hearing them.
Taff continued with his task, finishing to cook undisturbed, then he took the best portions of chicken, bread and fruit and filled a gold leafy platter, carefully placing it on the stone altar, scattering flour to write down his name Emris, very mindful of the respectful druids ways towards the spirits, creatures of magic and animals or beings under their protection.
Once done, he took two platters and filled them with some of the remaining meat, bread and fruit, offering one to Tye by leaving it on the floor near him. He retreated closer to the fire, taking his own generously heaped plate, leaving food for the rest if they returned
"The food is as good as it gets, you should eat while you can, you need your strength back after the injury and journey" advised Taff
"In the old days, this was common, druids performed in shrines and temples like this, they kept them as peaceful and bountiful gardens of rest and healing. These trees will stay here for those who seek refuge after us or for Xochi to enjoy" explained Taff as he ate the meat and bread
"I apologize if I upset you earlier, but, you know... your name is well known across the lands and seas, Sir Morgan himself wrote to the king often about you and the strife your thefts caused, he even issued a wanted parchment with a generous bounty on account of the merchant Roland's reports among many others. But you need not worry, Tye, since Sir Henry is not the governor any more the notice is no longer valid, besides the king wants you alive and well so you should be fine" soothed Taff
"On the other hand, I need help, I need your help to save the king or at least recover his body, without using my powers or minimal usage at best, after help me get back to Port Royal urgently" admitted Taff already feeling determined but helpless, tucking into the food as he explained
"I don't know if you were told but King Conrad issued a compulsory purchase order against the Natoru Trading Company and forced the acquisition two seasons ago, it belongs to Merthyr now though it is run by others on his behalf. If you assist me now, I promise you a royal pardon and a wholesome reward of your choosing, be it gold, weapons, property, a vessel with crew or a good position, anything within reason including your freedom. What say you, will you help me in the hour of need?" Asked Taff.
"You may end up an honoured man for services rendered or at least a wealthy one and be on your way" offered Taff as he sat down to eat quickly, mouthful at a time, not only because he was hungry but also knowing time was of essence
"I will vanish the slave's branding that you may walk away head held high, a proper free man." Added Taff and while he spoke he waved the flames away into just hot embers in case the others returned.
He picked up his shirt and jacket, putting them on and stuffing the large pockets with as many apples as he could carry, biting into one to eat. He paused briefly by the entrance and looked ahead into the wilderness.
He extended the arm into the waterfall muttering something watching the water retrieve Tye's own dagger into Taff's palm
"It's all I can give you for now... this one you can take it and keep it, so use it wisely" muttered Taff leaving the blade on the floor just outside the stone entrance and starting the descend, ready to catch up to the rest for a while if they were heading back too, hoping Tye would accept the gift and the offer and come along too
Sir Henry Morgan grew a little restless at the lack of news or progress from the master at arms but he knew how stubborn the king was and how the more ruthless Triss was, his winning bet was placed on the thug, it was a matter of time before the king yielded into submission.
Merthyr briefly winced, mortified at the excessive familiarity and liberties that Chowder was taking by leaning on him, clearly not used to such close or prolonged contact, but brushed aside his discomfort to smile warmly at the man
"No, Chowder, I mean you no harm nor ill will... if death comes to you it will be nature's doing or pirates' hands, not on my account, sir" appeased Merthyr
"For one I have no weapons to fight with, also escaping without a boat is futile on this infested island and, given your kind courtesy, if I could, I would rather give you a royal pardon and let you on your way to your ladyfolk and your rum. Alas I am but slave forty six these days" noted Merthyr wondering how his reception would turn out to be
Once done, he took two platters and filled them with some of the remaining meat, bread and fruit, offering one to Tye by leaving it on the floor near him. He retreated closer to the fire, taking his own generously heaped plate, leaving food for the rest if they returned
"The food is as good as it gets, you should eat while you can, you need your strength back after the injury and journey" advised Taff
"In the old days, this was common, druids performed in shrines and temples like this, they kept them as peaceful and bountiful gardens of rest and healing. These trees will stay here for those who seek refuge after us or for Xochi to enjoy" explained Taff as he ate the meat and bread
"I apologize if I upset you earlier, but, you know... your name is well known across the lands and seas, Sir Morgan himself wrote to the king often about you and the strife your thefts caused, he even issued a wanted parchment with a generous bounty on account of the merchant Roland's reports among many others. But you need not worry, Tye, since Sir Henry is not the governor any more the notice is no longer valid, besides the king wants you alive and well so you should be fine" soothed Taff
"On the other hand, I need help, I need your help to save the king or at least recover his body, without using my powers or minimal usage at best, after help me get back to Port Royal urgently" admitted Taff already feeling determined but helpless, tucking into the food as he explained
"I don't know if you were told but King Conrad issued a compulsory purchase order against the Natoru Trading Company and forced the acquisition two seasons ago, it belongs to Merthyr now though it is run by others on his behalf. If you assist me now, I promise you a royal pardon and a wholesome reward of your choosing, be it gold, weapons, property, a vessel with crew or a good position, anything within reason including your freedom. What say you, will you help me in the hour of need?" Asked Taff.
"You may end up an honoured man for services rendered or at least a wealthy one and be on your way" offered Taff as he sat down to eat quickly, mouthful at a time, not only because he was hungry but also knowing time was of essence
"I will vanish the slave's branding that you may walk away head held high, a proper free man." Added Taff and while he spoke he waved the flames away into just hot embers in case the others returned.
He picked up his shirt and jacket, putting them on and stuffing the large pockets with as many apples as he could carry, biting into one to eat. He paused briefly by the entrance and looked ahead into the wilderness.
He extended the arm into the waterfall muttering something watching the water retrieve Tye's own dagger into Taff's palm
"It's all I can give you for now... this one you can take it and keep it, so use it wisely" muttered Taff leaving the blade on the floor just outside the stone entrance and starting the descend, ready to catch up to the rest for a while if they were heading back too, hoping Tye would accept the gift and the offer and come along too
Sir Henry Morgan grew a little restless at the lack of news or progress from the master at arms but he knew how stubborn the king was and how the more ruthless Triss was, his winning bet was placed on the thug, it was a matter of time before the king yielded into submission.
Merthyr briefly winced, mortified at the excessive familiarity and liberties that Chowder was taking by leaning on him, clearly not used to such close or prolonged contact, but brushed aside his discomfort to smile warmly at the man
"No, Chowder, I mean you no harm nor ill will... if death comes to you it will be nature's doing or pirates' hands, not on my account, sir" appeased Merthyr
"For one I have no weapons to fight with, also escaping without a boat is futile on this infested island and, given your kind courtesy, if I could, I would rather give you a royal pardon and let you on your way to your ladyfolk and your rum. Alas I am but slave forty six these days" noted Merthyr wondering how his reception would turn out to be
In the stormy quiet of the jungle, Sirina was glad Xochi hung round her neck, keeping her company. Bits of rain began making its way down, seeping through the fairly thick canopy overhead, and the soft drip drip drip could be heard, as well as the trickle of streams already collecting in lower areas. Soon the downpour above would make things rather wet below. She sighed softly, wondering why life never made anything easy. She was very aware of what her shirt would do, given a good soaking. No bindings could completely hide the gentle swells beneath. The shirt had done well for her thus far however, loose in its fitting, and a dark navy color for the occasional wetting at sea - which she'd done her best to avoid.
After a few moments of speechless weaving throughout trees, her feet finding a very small and inconspicuous game trail, oblivious thus far to Mark having followed. Having no idea where the pirates were at this point in time, she wanted to remain quiet, yet she found a soft voice issuing from her, wanting to address the words the dragon had offered before. "I am sorry your kind is dwindling, and that your report with humans is not as it once was." Her voice held the respect she was beginning to feel for this small yet beautiful creature. "If there is anything I can do to aid you while I am yet upon this island, I would happily do so." After another moment, she continued softly. "If your kind lived in the kingdom I come from, I would hope that you would be welcomed and counted as equals among us, if not more than so."
Not knowing what else to say she fell silent, her gaze sweeping up to the trees in search of fruit, as well as their bases fot any telltale signs of tubers. "I don't know what edible tubers look like." She admitted ruefully, "but I do know what fruit looks like. And that tree, is looking promising" she said after a while, pointing ahead to where a tree sprouting coconuts rose up before them, nestled among the other greenery, nearly hidden.
"Let's try to collect enough for the others, just in case." She added, hoping her speech had not been enough to alert anyone of their whereabouts. Moving up to the tree she gazed up in momentary consternation, then twisted her neck to glance at Xochi. "I can try to climb this, yet if you can fly up and break those off I wouldn't dissuade you." She grinned.
After a few moments of speechless weaving throughout trees, her feet finding a very small and inconspicuous game trail, oblivious thus far to Mark having followed. Having no idea where the pirates were at this point in time, she wanted to remain quiet, yet she found a soft voice issuing from her, wanting to address the words the dragon had offered before. "I am sorry your kind is dwindling, and that your report with humans is not as it once was." Her voice held the respect she was beginning to feel for this small yet beautiful creature. "If there is anything I can do to aid you while I am yet upon this island, I would happily do so." After another moment, she continued softly. "If your kind lived in the kingdom I come from, I would hope that you would be welcomed and counted as equals among us, if not more than so."
Not knowing what else to say she fell silent, her gaze sweeping up to the trees in search of fruit, as well as their bases fot any telltale signs of tubers. "I don't know what edible tubers look like." She admitted ruefully, "but I do know what fruit looks like. And that tree, is looking promising" she said after a while, pointing ahead to where a tree sprouting coconuts rose up before them, nestled among the other greenery, nearly hidden.
"Let's try to collect enough for the others, just in case." She added, hoping her speech had not been enough to alert anyone of their whereabouts. Moving up to the tree she gazed up in momentary consternation, then twisted her neck to glance at Xochi. "I can try to climb this, yet if you can fly up and break those off I wouldn't dissuade you." She grinned.
The storm was worsening much faster than she preferred, and if she didn’t make it to land soon, being spotted would be the least of her worries. At least at this point she could swim if she had too, though she remained adamant about staying as dry as possible. A bit of an unreasonable goal, given the circumstances, but a goal nonetheless. She thoroughly despised being wet.
Eyes jerked her head around nervously at every stroke, tracking a figure she could now see hadn’t been within the treeline at all, merely silhouetted against it. “Damn.” No telling how long he had been there, or when he had become aware of her presence. It wasn’t until she got closer that she could see why he was out alone on such a distant shoreline. Flotsam, in sufficient quantity that the shipwreck it came from had to have been both nearby and recent, had been washed up onto the strand by the storm, and he was pilfering through it. Thankfully, he appeared more interested in keeping his discovery a secret rather than reporting her arrival.
He certainly looked the part of one of the inhabitants that had invaded this place. Short beard, strong arms, do-rag around what was likely a bald head, and dressed in ragged clothing that whipped around his body in the wind so much that she was surprised it wasn’t blowing away. With her boat just a few breaths away from grounding out on the shore, any question about his awareness was answered as his head came up from a box and looked directly at her, hand drawing the sword at his belt, calmly posturing to greet her on the beach.
She turned away to formulate a plan. While being a reasonably decent scrapper, she would be no match for a veteran pirate. A direct approach wouldn’t work, neither was there a guarantee that he was as weak willed as her previous prey. She couldn’t let him get away, so she couldn’t attempt to ignore or run from him, and she couldn’t try to land elsewhere in this storm. Panic threatened her resolve and poisoned her mind, and it took a great deal of energy to keep it confined. She needed to focus.
The pointed bow of her rowboat burrowed into the dry sand, her body using the retained momentum to plant one hand down on the seat, agility carrying her up and around to land feet first onto the shore facing the stranger, one oar still in tow. He was nearly thirty paces out, but she could see him stop and tense up from her sudden activity, though his weapon remained low and out of stance. Stretched clearly across her face, long cyan hair kept purposefully back so it would be visible, was a look of urgent distress.
“Help!” She cried out over the howling winds, purposefully fumbling her footing as she sprinted towards him. “They are coming for me! You must help!” Panic was woven into her voice, interlaced with tones of dread and a desperate plea. She only had precious few seconds to sell him on it.
His eyes remained on her, concerned and wary now that her sanity had been called into question. He had been watching her for long enough to know there wasn’t another ship out there for miles. Perhaps she had drank seawater and gone mad. It would explain how she survived in a rowboat for this long seeing as how there wasn’t another spot of land for a hundred miles. But she was small and in good health, and slaves needn’t be judged on the condition of their mental acuity. “Who would that’d be, darlin’?” He shouted back, waving his free arm in her general direction. “I don’t see not a one boat but yers.”
So he did have half a brain. She could work with that. Feet found themselves misplaced only a dozen paces from where he waited, and she fell to the ground, gasping for air while using the oar as a crutch. After a few seconds, eyes dragged her head back up to his, strained with disbelief. “You don’t see them?!” She demanded, now pulling the rest of her body up to continue running towards him. “You don’t see their beady little eyes watching us?!” Her upper torso turned almost perpendicular to his, left arm outstretched to point the oar out into the general direction of the sea.
First pickings of some loot and a new slave, a female at that. Neptune was smiling on him today. “I’m ‘fraid I don’t, sweeting.” He replied coolly, waving a dismissive hand to try to divert the conversation. “Why don’t you calm down and tell me what brings you to this here land?”
In the final few steps, footing corrected their labored strides into nimble lunges. Her left hand squeezed the oar tightly while her right fell across her stomach to join it further down the thin shaft. With momentum carried from her legs, up into a twisting torso, and through two arms into an underhanded swing, she brought the oar around at a blinding speed, driving the broad flat paddle directly into the gut of her most recent acquaintance. The strike landed higher than intended, a loud slap only partially masking the sickening crunch of shattering ribs, the pressure far exceeding their protective capacity.
“You, sweeting.” She whispered, the false pretense of every previous emotion vanished, replaced with a pointed snickering taunt. The inevitable cry of pain was lost as all the breath was forcibly driven from his lungs, legs surrendering their composure to drop him to his knees, arms tightly encircling his stomach. Strength and skill were no match for a well placed sucker-punch.
She took a moment to catch her breath, bleeding out the adrenaline fueled energy from her veins. It afforded her the opportunity to look into the forest for any signs of reinforcements, though the underbrush was so thick it would be a small miracle to have seen someone who wished not to be anyway. “Alright handsome, listen here.” Satisfied, she turned to face his slumped body, drawing the thin tip of her oar up under his chin to force his head to face hers. “I already had to put one of you bilge rats down today, and I’m none too keen about having to do it again. Let’s make a deal, a little tit for tat, what d’ya say?” She prodded him with a foot, giving him time to regain some air.
“Wha... Who... are...?” His voice was difficult to hear over the trees bending to the the forces of nature that were still rapidly encroaching on them.
“Look, I didn’t come here to play twenty questions. I only have one, and you should have one less than that.” She paused. “That would be zero, in case you were having trouble with the math.”
“Go…” He stammered, sucking in air. “Go to hell, you b-” In one fluid motion, the tip of the oar slid from under his chin, swinging wide to bring the broad end around and strike him cleanly across the face. It wasn’t hard enough to cause damage, but it was enough to make him choke on his last word. The slender tip continued in the spin until it assumed its previous location.
“Where’d you learn your manners? That’s no way to speak to a lady. Why I’d rinse your mouth out with soap if I had any.” She took one sniff. “Or if you even knew what soap was.” Arm withdrew to point behind her. “This storm is getting closer, and the only thing I hate more than you right now is getting wet. So I’d appreciate some cooperation on your e-”
Peripheral vision caught leaves rustling in the wrong direction than what the wind would have permitted. Something or someone was nearby, drawing out an exaggerated sigh of irritation. “Why’d ya have to go and ruin our date by bringing a third wheel?” Eyes scanned the area she saw movement as she slowly backed away, her direction down the beach but slightly inland. Killing that man had been up there on the priority list, but an injured comrade was worth more to her than a dead one. Meanwhile, she lacked the element of surprise, the poorer footing out on the sand, least information on their numbers, and little knowledge of the surrounding terrain. The disadvantages were stacking up, and she needed all the head start she could get.
Eyes jerked her head around nervously at every stroke, tracking a figure she could now see hadn’t been within the treeline at all, merely silhouetted against it. “Damn.” No telling how long he had been there, or when he had become aware of her presence. It wasn’t until she got closer that she could see why he was out alone on such a distant shoreline. Flotsam, in sufficient quantity that the shipwreck it came from had to have been both nearby and recent, had been washed up onto the strand by the storm, and he was pilfering through it. Thankfully, he appeared more interested in keeping his discovery a secret rather than reporting her arrival.
He certainly looked the part of one of the inhabitants that had invaded this place. Short beard, strong arms, do-rag around what was likely a bald head, and dressed in ragged clothing that whipped around his body in the wind so much that she was surprised it wasn’t blowing away. With her boat just a few breaths away from grounding out on the shore, any question about his awareness was answered as his head came up from a box and looked directly at her, hand drawing the sword at his belt, calmly posturing to greet her on the beach.
She turned away to formulate a plan. While being a reasonably decent scrapper, she would be no match for a veteran pirate. A direct approach wouldn’t work, neither was there a guarantee that he was as weak willed as her previous prey. She couldn’t let him get away, so she couldn’t attempt to ignore or run from him, and she couldn’t try to land elsewhere in this storm. Panic threatened her resolve and poisoned her mind, and it took a great deal of energy to keep it confined. She needed to focus.
The pointed bow of her rowboat burrowed into the dry sand, her body using the retained momentum to plant one hand down on the seat, agility carrying her up and around to land feet first onto the shore facing the stranger, one oar still in tow. He was nearly thirty paces out, but she could see him stop and tense up from her sudden activity, though his weapon remained low and out of stance. Stretched clearly across her face, long cyan hair kept purposefully back so it would be visible, was a look of urgent distress.
“Help!” She cried out over the howling winds, purposefully fumbling her footing as she sprinted towards him. “They are coming for me! You must help!” Panic was woven into her voice, interlaced with tones of dread and a desperate plea. She only had precious few seconds to sell him on it.
His eyes remained on her, concerned and wary now that her sanity had been called into question. He had been watching her for long enough to know there wasn’t another ship out there for miles. Perhaps she had drank seawater and gone mad. It would explain how she survived in a rowboat for this long seeing as how there wasn’t another spot of land for a hundred miles. But she was small and in good health, and slaves needn’t be judged on the condition of their mental acuity. “Who would that’d be, darlin’?” He shouted back, waving his free arm in her general direction. “I don’t see not a one boat but yers.”
So he did have half a brain. She could work with that. Feet found themselves misplaced only a dozen paces from where he waited, and she fell to the ground, gasping for air while using the oar as a crutch. After a few seconds, eyes dragged her head back up to his, strained with disbelief. “You don’t see them?!” She demanded, now pulling the rest of her body up to continue running towards him. “You don’t see their beady little eyes watching us?!” Her upper torso turned almost perpendicular to his, left arm outstretched to point the oar out into the general direction of the sea.
First pickings of some loot and a new slave, a female at that. Neptune was smiling on him today. “I’m ‘fraid I don’t, sweeting.” He replied coolly, waving a dismissive hand to try to divert the conversation. “Why don’t you calm down and tell me what brings you to this here land?”
In the final few steps, footing corrected their labored strides into nimble lunges. Her left hand squeezed the oar tightly while her right fell across her stomach to join it further down the thin shaft. With momentum carried from her legs, up into a twisting torso, and through two arms into an underhanded swing, she brought the oar around at a blinding speed, driving the broad flat paddle directly into the gut of her most recent acquaintance. The strike landed higher than intended, a loud slap only partially masking the sickening crunch of shattering ribs, the pressure far exceeding their protective capacity.
“You, sweeting.” She whispered, the false pretense of every previous emotion vanished, replaced with a pointed snickering taunt. The inevitable cry of pain was lost as all the breath was forcibly driven from his lungs, legs surrendering their composure to drop him to his knees, arms tightly encircling his stomach. Strength and skill were no match for a well placed sucker-punch.
She took a moment to catch her breath, bleeding out the adrenaline fueled energy from her veins. It afforded her the opportunity to look into the forest for any signs of reinforcements, though the underbrush was so thick it would be a small miracle to have seen someone who wished not to be anyway. “Alright handsome, listen here.” Satisfied, she turned to face his slumped body, drawing the thin tip of her oar up under his chin to force his head to face hers. “I already had to put one of you bilge rats down today, and I’m none too keen about having to do it again. Let’s make a deal, a little tit for tat, what d’ya say?” She prodded him with a foot, giving him time to regain some air.
“Wha... Who... are...?” His voice was difficult to hear over the trees bending to the the forces of nature that were still rapidly encroaching on them.
“Look, I didn’t come here to play twenty questions. I only have one, and you should have one less than that.” She paused. “That would be zero, in case you were having trouble with the math.”
“Go…” He stammered, sucking in air. “Go to hell, you b-” In one fluid motion, the tip of the oar slid from under his chin, swinging wide to bring the broad end around and strike him cleanly across the face. It wasn’t hard enough to cause damage, but it was enough to make him choke on his last word. The slender tip continued in the spin until it assumed its previous location.
“Where’d you learn your manners? That’s no way to speak to a lady. Why I’d rinse your mouth out with soap if I had any.” She took one sniff. “Or if you even knew what soap was.” Arm withdrew to point behind her. “This storm is getting closer, and the only thing I hate more than you right now is getting wet. So I’d appreciate some cooperation on your e-”
Peripheral vision caught leaves rustling in the wrong direction than what the wind would have permitted. Something or someone was nearby, drawing out an exaggerated sigh of irritation. “Why’d ya have to go and ruin our date by bringing a third wheel?” Eyes scanned the area she saw movement as she slowly backed away, her direction down the beach but slightly inland. Killing that man had been up there on the priority list, but an injured comrade was worth more to her than a dead one. Meanwhile, she lacked the element of surprise, the poorer footing out on the sand, least information on their numbers, and little knowledge of the surrounding terrain. The disadvantages were stacking up, and she needed all the head start she could get.
The dragon draped around the girl’s shoulders and neck contentedly, comfortable with the silence. The sound of rain and the occasional chatter of creatures gave music to the wet atmosphere. She listened to Sirina as she looked about in search for food for her company.
“It is the nature of things; either you adapt or die… and my kind have been slow to adapt. And with this new type of human coming over seas things have rapidly changed over the past few hundred years.”
Xochi hugged the girl’s neck gently in thanks, feeling no animosity to her or her kind. In fact, she enjoyed human company and wished to keep a rapport with her kind, and develop new trust between the two species. The pirates and other explorers that had visited her land gave her a poor impression their culture, but after meeting this group she had begun to renew some hope of learning more. At the mention of her kingdom the dragon perked up, eyes glistening.
“Can you tell me more about where you came from? What it was like? Are you of Northern folk such as Taff Gell-i-gen?” Her words began to distort back to being undecipherable. “Do you have j-ungles and is-lands suc-h as this? How c-old? And wh-at o-f your cul-t-ure?” Xochi kneaded her little hands into the woman’s skin and fired off the questions that had been building in her mind. She had briefly forgotten to focus on her speech to communicate with the human in her brief excitement. The Coatl paused for a moment, and asked in a more careful tone,
“…Do you think my kind would truly be counted as equals in your land? The others that have come from across the sea have looked on me with an eye of greed and fear. Which breeds only ill omens…” She tilted her head so she could look eye to eye with the woman for a moment before following Sirina’s gaze to look up at the trees. The dragon began to uncoil as she spotted some inconspicuous oval shaped fruits above.
“Tubers can be tricky to find; they take more work to eat as well. I have watched humans of my homeland boil the stalks and roots of many before they ate them.” She crawled up the woman’s pointing arm and took flight towards the trees, not needing further encouragement. She clung to the branches of the coconut tree before saying “Mind your head! These are heavy.” and began to scratch and shove at the stalks that connected the large fruits to the branches. Eventually three landed onto the forest floor with a heavy ‘thump’.
After that, Xochi glided to the tree with smaller, more rounded fruits, that looked similar to sweet potatoes; her tongue flickered in and out before chirping out confidently, “These mamey should be tasty, too!” and easily plucked several of them and let them fall to the floor, one split upon contact with the ground and revealed its orange saturated insides and single black seed. She picked one more and did her best to carry it with her short front arms, flying lazily down to Sirina, and landed back on her shoulders, laying atop the fruit victoriously.
“It is the nature of things; either you adapt or die… and my kind have been slow to adapt. And with this new type of human coming over seas things have rapidly changed over the past few hundred years.”
Xochi hugged the girl’s neck gently in thanks, feeling no animosity to her or her kind. In fact, she enjoyed human company and wished to keep a rapport with her kind, and develop new trust between the two species. The pirates and other explorers that had visited her land gave her a poor impression their culture, but after meeting this group she had begun to renew some hope of learning more. At the mention of her kingdom the dragon perked up, eyes glistening.
“Can you tell me more about where you came from? What it was like? Are you of Northern folk such as Taff Gell-i-gen?” Her words began to distort back to being undecipherable. “Do you have j-ungles and is-lands suc-h as this? How c-old? And wh-at o-f your cul-t-ure?” Xochi kneaded her little hands into the woman’s skin and fired off the questions that had been building in her mind. She had briefly forgotten to focus on her speech to communicate with the human in her brief excitement. The Coatl paused for a moment, and asked in a more careful tone,
“…Do you think my kind would truly be counted as equals in your land? The others that have come from across the sea have looked on me with an eye of greed and fear. Which breeds only ill omens…” She tilted her head so she could look eye to eye with the woman for a moment before following Sirina’s gaze to look up at the trees. The dragon began to uncoil as she spotted some inconspicuous oval shaped fruits above.
“Tubers can be tricky to find; they take more work to eat as well. I have watched humans of my homeland boil the stalks and roots of many before they ate them.” She crawled up the woman’s pointing arm and took flight towards the trees, not needing further encouragement. She clung to the branches of the coconut tree before saying “Mind your head! These are heavy.” and began to scratch and shove at the stalks that connected the large fruits to the branches. Eventually three landed onto the forest floor with a heavy ‘thump’.
After that, Xochi glided to the tree with smaller, more rounded fruits, that looked similar to sweet potatoes; her tongue flickered in and out before chirping out confidently, “These mamey should be tasty, too!” and easily plucked several of them and let them fall to the floor, one split upon contact with the ground and revealed its orange saturated insides and single black seed. She picked one more and did her best to carry it with her short front arms, flying lazily down to Sirina, and landed back on her shoulders, laying atop the fruit victoriously.
Tye calmed somewhat as the druid continued working and replying. To the aside regarding food he teased, "I thought I wasn't supposed to touch it." Still, he did humor picking up one of the leaf-shapped platters for further inspection. To the rest, the thief listened.
"You probaly 'ave the wrong Tye. I don't steal unless I need to or th' sods really deserve it." His own statement made the boy think, though; perhaps it was because he only chose the cruelest of marks that his infamy was played up?
He did frown when Gelligen confessed requiring his help; it was no surprise but he could only think of so many ways to infiltrate the pirate den in the first place, let alone escaping with their most well-guarded prisoner. He mulled on it and the details about the Natoru Trading Company- a place he definitely planned on paying a visit later- but found little inspiration or motivation as of yet.
"Unless yer Merthyr proves t' be a truly honorable man, no public celebration of my services would matter t' me. But... perhaps I could help. If everythin' lines up, at least." He sighed. Why was he even considering this?
He could foresee assisting in Merthyr's escape but until his mind changed he would only do so knowing that it was along the way to his own departure of the island. And it was a possibility, he mused, for the pirates did not seem too likely to keep the king on the same island; especially not after they tracked the Wester's Light to it.
When Taff returned with his dagger the boy looked genuinely surprised. "How...?" The thief waited as the man descended into the ruin and, reluctantly, ate from the platter given to him. Between his impatience and fear of offending fickle spirits the thief left most of the food behind and walked- though he wished dearly to jog- to collect his dagger from the stone.
"What're y' goin' down there for?" He called in, not ready to step inside just yet.
_
Mark was certain that Sirina and Xochi probably followed one path but regardless seemed to lose track of them. The older man thought about the bad luck he seemed to have but was not daunted so soon; surely he'd find some sign of them before he knew it.
_
Chowder smiled at Merthyr, pleased that a man of royal blood would consider that in the first place. "Aye, aye I do love me lady folk an' me rum. Is tha' wot ol' Goff calls ye'? Nobody else will. I's too long t' bother sayin'."
He chuckled and mimicked one of his more serious fellow pirates; "Oi! Slave t'ree 'undred n' thirty! Go 'elp slave two thousn' an' nine outta th' sloppy latrine or I'll give ye' fourty-three lashes!" The camp was indeed coming into reach; as they arrived a varied series of eyes set upon them, hard with frustration and hatred.
_
Goff could hear a familiar voice further away but couldn't make out quite what they were saying. The relaxation in their tone did not please the wandering master-at-arms in the slightest, however; if a single crewmember was not working then he was not doing his job right, either. Loathe to be distracted from his charge, the man quickened his pace and walked out to see just what the errant pirate was doing.
Before he was within sight Triss heard the hollow bang of wood against something, which tempered his speed a bit and brought the man down to a cautious crouch during his approach. Just as he thought he might be able to observe without being spotted, however, the master-at-arms noticed a branch beneath his quickly descending foot.
The man scrambled to avoid crushing the branch, only succeeding in tripping into a gathering of broad-leafed plants. It was just as obvious, so he'd have to give up the ghost.
Goff was quick to regain his composure, holding up his crossbow and emerging from the foliage near to the strand the new woman stood on, as well as the pirate she subdued. "Now what is going on here?"
"You probaly 'ave the wrong Tye. I don't steal unless I need to or th' sods really deserve it." His own statement made the boy think, though; perhaps it was because he only chose the cruelest of marks that his infamy was played up?
He did frown when Gelligen confessed requiring his help; it was no surprise but he could only think of so many ways to infiltrate the pirate den in the first place, let alone escaping with their most well-guarded prisoner. He mulled on it and the details about the Natoru Trading Company- a place he definitely planned on paying a visit later- but found little inspiration or motivation as of yet.
"Unless yer Merthyr proves t' be a truly honorable man, no public celebration of my services would matter t' me. But... perhaps I could help. If everythin' lines up, at least." He sighed. Why was he even considering this?
He could foresee assisting in Merthyr's escape but until his mind changed he would only do so knowing that it was along the way to his own departure of the island. And it was a possibility, he mused, for the pirates did not seem too likely to keep the king on the same island; especially not after they tracked the Wester's Light to it.
When Taff returned with his dagger the boy looked genuinely surprised. "How...?" The thief waited as the man descended into the ruin and, reluctantly, ate from the platter given to him. Between his impatience and fear of offending fickle spirits the thief left most of the food behind and walked- though he wished dearly to jog- to collect his dagger from the stone.
"What're y' goin' down there for?" He called in, not ready to step inside just yet.
_
Mark was certain that Sirina and Xochi probably followed one path but regardless seemed to lose track of them. The older man thought about the bad luck he seemed to have but was not daunted so soon; surely he'd find some sign of them before he knew it.
_
Chowder smiled at Merthyr, pleased that a man of royal blood would consider that in the first place. "Aye, aye I do love me lady folk an' me rum. Is tha' wot ol' Goff calls ye'? Nobody else will. I's too long t' bother sayin'."
He chuckled and mimicked one of his more serious fellow pirates; "Oi! Slave t'ree 'undred n' thirty! Go 'elp slave two thousn' an' nine outta th' sloppy latrine or I'll give ye' fourty-three lashes!" The camp was indeed coming into reach; as they arrived a varied series of eyes set upon them, hard with frustration and hatred.
_
Goff could hear a familiar voice further away but couldn't make out quite what they were saying. The relaxation in their tone did not please the wandering master-at-arms in the slightest, however; if a single crewmember was not working then he was not doing his job right, either. Loathe to be distracted from his charge, the man quickened his pace and walked out to see just what the errant pirate was doing.
Before he was within sight Triss heard the hollow bang of wood against something, which tempered his speed a bit and brought the man down to a cautious crouch during his approach. Just as he thought he might be able to observe without being spotted, however, the master-at-arms noticed a branch beneath his quickly descending foot.
The man scrambled to avoid crushing the branch, only succeeding in tripping into a gathering of broad-leafed plants. It was just as obvious, so he'd have to give up the ghost.
Goff was quick to regain his composure, holding up his crossbow and emerging from the foliage near to the strand the new woman stood on, as well as the pirate she subdued. "Now what is going on here?"
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