Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)

[Fiasco]

The noise of crossbow’s discharge and Stravarius’ rage prompted the rest of the Hydra to action. Moxadder left his position next to Gerard at the rear of the party and ran forwards at a crouch, a dagger held low in his left hand. He reached the entrance to the hall and dropped into a crouch. Peering into the room he tried to assess the strength of the pirates’ position. Behind him, Gerard took a different tack. Hearing the noise from ahead, he surmised the rough position of the chamber and decided to approach it from a different flank. Running at full speed, he turned back the way they had come and ran back to cove. His fine boots barely made a noise as he dashed across the decking and into the closer of the two Southern passages. The sudden transition from the bright of the cove to the dark of the room made it hard for him to see much of what was going on. The same could not be said for the defenders, and an arrow ticked the wall just above Gerard’s head.

Argonne had been close behind Stravarius when the attack was launched and he was next into the room. Axe held firmly in hand, he charged the barrier of overturned tables and chairs. The attack provoked the discharge of two crossbows, neither of them effective. The woodsman tried to leap over the barrier but stumbled on an awkwardly placed stool and only just retained his footing. Behind him Mortec reached the entrance and loosed a bolt from his readied crossbow. Despite the difficult angle, it ripped across the cheek and ear of a pirate, causing him to scream in pain.

Morgan had been slow to react to the ambush, but finally stepped into the room. With bow in hand and arrow knocked, he sought a target in the poorly lit hall. His task was complicated by the presence of his companions in front of the barrier. The point of the arrow wove back and forth undecidedly while his forearm began to tremble with the strain. When the shaft was loosed, it passed harmlessly over the heads of everyone, the Fastendian having erred on the side of caution.

Two of the pirates retaliated with their crossbows, but they were so panicked by the close proximity of Argonne and Stravarius that they failed to strike the mark. The third defender had more success. Leaning over the tables, he managed to catch Argonne high in the shoulder with a knife before ducking back below the barricade in time to foil a dagger thrown by Moxadder.

“Over and at them boys!” encouraged Gerard as he ran at the barricade. He was quickly forced to back peddle in order to avoid being decapitated by Argonne’s, exuberant back swing. The massive axe cut inexorably through the air before impacting with both a pirates shoulder and an oaken table. Both suffered grievously, with the man being hurled from his feet and the wood splintering asunder.

Mortec added to the mayhem by loosing another bolt. Although it did not strike true, the missile caused the remaining two defenders to duck for cover and gave Stravarius the opportunity to leap atop the barrier unopposed. Steadying himself with one hand, he wielded his rapier in the other, glaring at his foes from within the depths of his hood. The nearest pirate snapped the string of his crossbow in his haste to arm it. The other, afflicted with a lazy eye, jerked too early on his weapon as he brought it to bear and buried the bolt deep into a table. The third defender slashed wildly at the cloaked assailant but was foiled by the steel breastplate. He collapsed from the effort, more blood to leaking from the shoulder ruined by Argonne’s axe.

From opposite corners of the hall, Morgan and Moxadder tried to pick out a target amidst the chaotic flurry. Frustrated for the moment, they both advanced a little closer to the barricade, hoping to see an opportunity. Gerard’s evasive action had taken him to the far side of the barricade and eschewing a dangerous climb, he began to pull on some of the furniture, trying to tear the edifice down. To his right, Argonne leaned over the hole he had smashed in the defences and brought his axe decisively down on a buccaneers head. The blow crushed the man’s neck and ended his life.

From his position atop the barricade, Stravarius lunged forward suddenly and speared his sword into the man with the lazy eye. The pain of the wound prompted a low moan and moments later, he and his partner clattered their weapons to the ground and begged for quarter.

“Let go your weapons!” Gerard commanded unnecessarily as he finally wrestled aside an impeding table. “And it will go better with you if you tell us of any friends you have lurking nearby, he continued”.

“Don’t kill us!” pleaded the man which Stravarius had wounded. Facing back towards the opening he called to his unseen companions to surrender. The Black Elf was already standing amongst the fallen to be well positioned to relieve the pair of newcomers of their clubs when they fearfully entered the room.

The Hydra acted quickly, pulling the barricade completely asunder and dragging their captives into the centre of the hall. The man who had begged for quarter identified himself as Rumscully Jack. Of the others, the club men were named Gelleck and Kossus, while the pirate with the wrecked shoulder was Bethpry.

Mortec and Argonne produced lengths of rope and it was small work to bind the prisoners into helplessness. Two corridors led from the Southern wall of the hall. With his best dagger in hand, Moxadder moved down the right hand passage. Stravarius explored the left. Morgan scowled distrustfully at the Black Elf’s back but then returned his attention to their prisoners.

 

[Fiasco]

Moxadder barely made a noise as he scouted the hide-out. His few possessions were tightly secured and his long thin legs stepped lightly across the soft limestone. Torches were secured at intervals along the passageways, providing ample light. He moved up to an opening on his right. A cautious peek suggested it was another store room. Looking ahead, he saw further archways lead off from the left and the right. A little beyond these the corridor stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. The Irudeshian stopped still and listened intently. Not a sound could be heard from the way ahead. Behind him he could hear the firm voices of his companions questioning the captive pirates.

The wide corridor that Stravarius had selected led South for a short distance before turning North. After twenty or so paces his way forward was blocked by iron bars, somewhat rusted but still strong. Peering past this obstruction he could see captives huddled in filthy cells. A smell of waste, despair and decay overwhelmed his nose and dragged bile up to his throat. A single torch provided only feeble illumination but his Dominion cursed heritage allowed his eyes to easily pierce the gloom.

Beyond the portcullis that guarded entry to the small prison there were four cells. Two to a side, with a narrow passageway between. Each cell was a combination of cold, slimy stone walls and ceiling length iron bars. One cell contained an old man stretched motionlessly on his back with a bent old woman squatting against the cell’s stone wall. The lack of any movement in the man gave a sinister clue to his condition. The adjacent cell held a muscular man in his early forties. Despite obvious signs of rough treatment he appeared quite hale. His powerful forearms rested impotently between two of the bars, clearly defeated by their cold strength.

On the other side of the prison two young women leant against each other. One wept silently, her shoulders shaking in time with her stifled sobs while the other listlessly tried to console her. Both appeared hard used. The inhabitants of the final cell were more unusual. Although their scales were dulled and besmirched with the muck of their captivity, they were clearly recognisable as Tritons. No doubt kin of those who made their homes in the shallows around Sorcerer’s Isle. The sea creatures were clearly miserable, their great gills flapping desperately in their effort to strain sustenance from the moisture in the air. Deprivation of their natural element had reduced them to a desperate state. Three of the creatures lay in the pen; two elders and a younger, slighter one. Though one of the elders appeared near death, he dribbled a small measure of water from a large bucket onto the neck of the youngster.

Stravarius remained in the gloom of the passageway and observed quietly. So abject were the prisoners in their misery that they had not heard or seen his approach. He reached a gloved hand up to his head and pulled his cowl lower over his face. Despite his sympathy for them he doubted his demonic appearance would give them any comfort. Resignedly he turned his back on them and retraced his steps. Their suffering would have to endure until he could return with the others.

While Moxadder and Stravarius had gone exploring the others had wasted no time in beginning their interrogation. Argonne pushed his homely face into that of Jack’s as he broadly annunciated his questions. The great leader of pirates lacked composure and blabbered desperately to keep the intimidating woodsman appeased. He rapidly confessed to raiding the coasts along the Cursed Sea and also informed them that a large part of the fleet was currently out on a raid, hence their inability to repulse their captors.

Mortec, who had been closely watching the proceedings grew increasingly suspicious. The man was plainly dressed, with the simple shirt and trousers that almost passed for a uniform amongst the Blood Sails. The only adornment he possessed was a plain silver ring, a thin battered thing that was scarcely worth the metal it was made from. The pirate himself was unprepossessing. His chin was weak and his hair lank and greasy. His eyes appeared small and pinched together due to the fatness of his cheeks. Mortec started to voice his suspicions when he was interrupted by the return of Stravarius.

“They have prisoners!” The Black Elf announced the moment he entered the hall. “Men, women and even some of those Tritons we met on the journey across. They have all suffered much by the look of them. They are locked in cells, we’ll probably need the keys to get them all out.”

The gnome turned to the man calling himself Rumscully Jack. “If you are who you say you are, you should have the keys to the prison.

“I do!” The man gabbled eagerly, “but not with me. They are in my barracks, I mean chambers, at the end of that corridor”, he said pointing in the direction Moxadder had gone.

“Moxadder!” Shouted the gnome, his voice carrying surprisingly well for such a diminutive fellow. “Search the room at the end of the hall. We are looking for keys to the prison cells”.

Hearing the command, the Irudeshian slouched up to the door. It was made of heavy wood and was closely set into the surrounding stone. An iron ring positioned just above waist height seemed the obvious means of entry. He grasped hold of the handle and gave it a sharp twist. The Irudeshian experienced a brief moment of doomed anticipation as he felt his action release a tremendous amount of energy from a hidden mechanism. The next instant a blade shot out of the door and skewered him a half inch below the sternum. Moxadder hissed in pain and surprise before collapsing backwards to the floor. The feeling of the blade doing him further harm as he slid back off it was a terrible one.

 

[Fiasco]

Back in the hall the Hydra heard the sharp snick of the blade and the sound of Moxadder’s dagger clattering to the floor. With an inarticulate cry, Mortec charged from the room, fearing the worst for his companion. Stravarius followed close at his heels. Argonne cursed vociferously, but mastered his impulse to join them. Instead, he turned his attention to the cringing pirate.

“When t’wee chap asked if tha knew owt of any keys, why dinst’a say owt of trap!” the woodsman thundered. His voiced dropped dramatically, “Ah believe tha hast played us false, and tis as well ah have summat to remedy it.” He raised a large, clodhopping boot and kick the terrified man flat on his back. Then with grim deliberation he raised his great axe, making sure to wave it before the horrified faces of the other pirates. The pirate leader’s mouth trembled and he tried to plead for his life but only horrid dry croaks emerged. Quickly, before he could have second thoughts, Argonne brought his blade smashing down. Gerard was to hear that sickening crunch in his mind for days to come.

Fascinated, despite himself, the nobleman stared at the body amidst the cacophony of pleas, confessions and bargains the other pirates were yammering. Surprisingly, the head was still attached to the shoulders, the man’s long greasy hair had been thick enough to partially withstand the blade’s edge. This fact made him no less dead, however, for the force of the stroke had crushed his neck. The body lay motionless, completely reft of life and with a face disfigured by the wordless terror of the extinguished soul.

Gerard felt somewhat shocked, he had always taken Argonne for a lout but had not thought him capable of this level of savagery. Looking to his companions, he saw that with the exception of Morgan, all were equally disturbed. The Fastendian warrior merely stood impassively, regarding the surviving captives with cold eyes. He had been witness to far worse on the desperate battlefields of his homeland.

As Mortec ran to Moxadder's aid, he felt none of the ambivalence of his reaction to Morgan’s injury on the cliff top. The man had acted on his instructions and he could only hope his injury wasn’t fatal. Stravarius overtook him, his armour thumping rhythmically with his strides.

The Black Elf reached Moxadder and tried to staunch the heavy bleeding with the edge of his cloak. He worked feverishly until Mortec relieved him and called once more upon his Goddess. The flash of heat, reminiscent of a fire’s glow, washed across Stravarius’ face. He watched in fascination as the wound closed over completely and Moxadder’s shallow breathes deepened in the absence of pain. He coughed reflexively and sat up. Seeing the concerned faces staring at him he felt a strange sensation of relief. He tried to smile his thanks but only managed a sickly leer. Fortunately, his saviours knew him well enough to interpret this as one of gratitude.

Weakly, the tattooed beggar waved them back, uncomfortable with their proximity. He shifted position and whistled in awe at the size of the blade that projected from the door. With trembling hands, he withdrew a stick of devil weed from his pouch and stood, wincing in the anticipation of a pain that did not make itself felt. The torch flame was sufficient to light the weed despite the staccato movement of his hands. He inhaled deeply of its essence, welcoming the familiar rush of the Big Fear. Once the first exhilaration passed, he blinked back to awareness and saw that the other two were on their way back to their companions. “Just a little more of the weed”, Moxadder told himself, then he would join the others and help with whatever needed doing.

After performing the brutal execution, Argonne had been content to merely loom threateningly over the pirates while Gerard took up the questioning. It was a frustrating process. While deeply intimidated, the reavers were largely ignorant of any deeper purpose to their depredations. Apart from admitting the dead man had not been Rumscully Jack they had little to contribute except to avow that the remainder of the fleet was expected back at any time. The interrogation had degenerated into a futile cycle of accusations and denials by the time Mortec and Stravarius returned.

Argonne was about to enquire after Moxadder’s condition when he discerned movement by the nearer opening leading to the cove. He was amazed to see a large man walking past the opening with complete unconcern. This figure immediately struck him as the pirate leader they had been seeking. The massive red beard, prominent scars, fine clothes, arrogant swagger, gaudy jewellery and supple boots; in short, everything about the man spoke of success and daring. The face had calculation and cunning stamped deep into it while sea cold eyes spoke eloquently of black deeds done without a shadow of remorse. This had to be Rumscully Jack. Without hesitation, Argonne raised his axe and charged, screaming a wordless challenge all the way.

 

[Fiasco]

The ill conceived battle cry warned the pirate sufficiently to duck the woodsman’s tremendous blow and once more cheat a well deserved death. At the outcry, the rest of the Hydra reacted quickly. Mortec deftly slapped a fresh bolt into his crossbow and with a supreme effort, armed it in one smooth motion. He moved towards the north eastern opening, hoping to get a clear sight of the buccaneer.

Gerard took a similar course of action, taking his crossbow to hand and hoping to outflank the pirate by emerging from the north western exit. Stravarius unsheathed his sword and ran to join Argonne, determined to sink his blade in the despoiler of Ravenswood. Morgan had time to hastily nock and arrow and loose it before the pirate was obscured by his companions. Unfortunately, the shaft flew wide and Jack escaped harm. The pirate assessed the situation at a glance and danced backwards from Argonne. He retreated quickly and the axeman’s follow up swipe fell inches short.

The move took Jack all the way across the decking and into the waters of the cove. Remarkably, he didn’t sink but appeared to stand directly on the water! He gave a deep belly laugh at the look of amazement on the woodsman’s face then plucked a battered horn from his belt and gave it wind. A sonorous groan echoed back and forth across the constrained waters of the port. The high rocky walls of the sink hole seemed to amplify the noise and to the Hydra’s surprise, the horn raised great billows of fog from the water.

The booming call and shouts of his companions alerted Moxadder to the new danger. His sinewy muscles, wound to a fine tension by the Big Fear, exploded into motion. Legs straining, he ran down the passageway towards the dock. In the hallway, the gnome kept his nerve and loosed a bolt with extraordinary accuracy. Despite the distraction of companions moving in front of him, the partial cover offered by the edge of the opening and the rapidly thickening fog, the shaft scores a shallow furrow in the pirate’s left thigh.

From his position West of Rumscully Jack, Gerard also raised his loaded weapon and squeezed the release. Unfortunately, the tension within the bow proved too great and the string snapped as it strained to hurl forth the bolt. With a curse, the nobleman threw it to the ground, and seeing that his foe was well out of range of his rapier, ran back towards the barricades where he had seen some discarded spears. As he left he heard Argonne bellow “Ah’ll get thee Rumscully Jack!”. The woodsman had run around the circumference of the dock, in order to secure the long boat from the pirate.

From his position near the North-Eastern opening, Stravarius sheathed his sword and began the strenuous process of arming his great crossbow. Morgan moved up to stand next to him and loosed another arrow from his bow. Unfortunately, the fog was now quite thick and he failed to strike his indistinct target. To his surprise, he felt the muscled form of Kuruul brush against his leg and the next instant everyone heard the creature give a strange howl. The high pitched, plaintive noise reverberated in counterpoint to the deeper tones of Rumscully Jacks magical horn.

The result was equally wondrous. As quickly as the fog had gathered to the pirate’s call, it receded once more, bathing the cove in brilliant sunshine. The abruptly clear conditions allowed all to see the corsair briefly lose his composure before he snatching another object from his belt.

As Rumscully Jack regarded his enemies from across the shining waters he felt a grudging respect for them. They had managed to counter his fog, and now he was in danger of being brought low by the weight of missiles they would loose at him. Nevertheless, the thought of abandoning his magnificent hideout too easily was galling. The new object in hand was a conch of startling purity and smoothness.

Taking a deep breath, he raised the narrow point of the shell to his mouth and exhaled mightily into the natural tube. The noise that emerged was surprisingly soft for the effort expended, but reassuringly, he saw the water shiver in response to the mystical call. Satisfied, he returned the conch to his belt and stepped further back into the centre of the cove. The magic of his boots left peculiar footprints in the water that remained for a breathe before merging back into the whole.

Gasping from his exertion, Moxadder reached the dock. Reaching to his side he cursed at the realisation his prized dagger had been left in the corridor. Fortunately, he had collected other knives in his time with the Hydra, and he drew one of these as a substitute. Trying to concentrate through the persistent effects of the weed, he threw his blade at the pirate. Though his aim was good, it failed to hurt Rumscully Jack. The length of the cast had robbed the dagger of any penetrative force, and the pirate’s jerkin rejected its point.

For Mortec’s crossbow, the range presented no such difficulties and the absence of fog gave him a clear view of his foe. He caressed the stock of his weapon for luck and then loosed a bolt. Once more he achieved success, drawing a red line across Rumscully Jack’s beefy arm and drawing a snarl of pain.

Back in the dining hall, Gerard, dashed behind the remnants of the barricade and seized a lengthy spear from against the wall. Struggling with the foreign heft of the weapon, he staggered back in the direction of the melee.

From his position on the opposite side of the dock, Argonne stepped into the longboat and cast off its securing rope. Then, bracing himself, he leaned back over the dock and kicked mightily with his foot, hoping to launch the vessel in Rumscully Jack’s direction. Unfortunately, he underestimated the force it would take and ended up sprawling himself across the deck. The boat barely moved at all, wallowing a few yards in the buccaneer’s direction. As he scrambled desperately to his feet, he looked back at his companions, hoping that they would act to cut the reaver down. He saw Stravarius and Morgan standing side by side, unlikely allies in the desperate battle.

The Black Elf was feverishly working at his crossbow, the massive tension it demanded severely hampering his speed. Beside him, Morgan retrieved an arrow from his quiver then drew back and loosed in one easy action. The arrow nicked the pirate’s shoulder and Argonne clearly saw the rage suffuse the pirate’s features at this further sting to his pride.

Rumscully Jack regained his composure when he saw the waters of the cove begin to froth with activity. The Hydra watched in fear as fish scaled humanoids thrust themselves up from the water and regarded them with cold, emotionless eyes. The functional harnesses and spiralled spears were a familiar sight. As the tritons moved to attack, Mortec wondered at how such noble creatures could make common cause with such a vicious cutthroat.

Moxadder perceived the situation quite differently. The proximity of taking Devil Weed and the frantic rush of the battle had quite unhinged his reason. When the tritons had lunged up to confront them he dropped his newly drawn dagger and fumbled desperately for his crossbow. “A Kraken!”, he screamed, fingers shaking as he armed the bow and raised it to his shoulder. Unfortunately, his nerves were too disordered to allow his to aim. The Fastendian contented himself with waving the weapon erratically while trying to pick out a vulnerability within the imaginary beast’s torso. To his compromised senses, each thrashing triton was a tentacled arm, and the pirate captain its hideous head. He thrust a white knuckled hand into his mouth and tried to compose himself before trying to take aim again.

Mortec glared at the panicking Irudeshian and forced himself to concentrate on his task. With an effort that made his muscles burn with exertion, he armed his crossbow, raised it to his shoulders and loosed it once more. He missed, a nimble footed shift in position by the pirate defeating him. Nervously, he edged back a little further into the doorway, hoping to avoid facing the tritons in close combat. In doing so, he was nearly bowled over by Gerard, as the nobleman ran past him with a great spear clutched in both hands. Nearly overbalancing from his burden, the fop’s even strides degenerated into a stutter as he tried to stop before reaching the water. With his forward momentum halted just in time, Gerard aimed his spear at the chest of a fast approaching triton and hoped for the best.

 

[Fiasco]

The appearance of the tritons caused Argonne to reassess the wisdom of his sea born attack. Instead of bearing down on an unawares pirate he was sailing in the direction of a pair of formidable sea creatures. Abandoning what remained of his dignity, the woodsman ran back along the length of his boat and leaped back onto the dock. The force of his leap dug the stern of the boat downwards momentarily before it sprang back up and lolled another few feet towards Rumscully Jack.

When Stravarius saw the tritons appear his initial fear was replaced with the germ of an idea. Thoughts whirring, he remembered that the tritons had lost their prince and wondered if it was one of the captive sea folk in the prison. Surely, he reasoned, allegiance to the prince might outweigh any compulsion the magic of the horn could command over the attacking tritons? Distracted by his thinking, he negligently took aim and missed badly. Pleased to discard the heavy weapon, he turned and ran back into the hallway and in the direction of the cells.

“Stay and fight, you coward!” yelled Morgan at the departing Black Elf. In his fury, he bent his bow nearly in half before loosing the shaft at Rumscully Jack. Inspired by his anger, the arrow flew true and pierced the bearded man high in the shoulder. The pirate shook with fury and drawing his sword, he advance a few paces towards the Fastendian before reason stilled his feet. Regaining his poise, he smiled mockingly as his summoned allies threw a flurry of spears at his foes. Perhaps because they were disoriented from their summons, or merely through good fortune, none of the Hydra took serious hurt.

The pirate cursed anew, frustrated at the ineptness of his troops, but still refused to flee. Though the pain and number of his wounds were mounting, he could not stomach retreat from such a clearly inexperienced group. One had already fled, and another was raving senselessly. Surely his six tritons would easily overcome the other four. Jack’s calculations were interrupted by a bolt that nearly buried itself in his foot.

“Take that you damned Octopus!” screamed Moxadder from deep within the devil weed’s thrall. Somehow the Irudeshian had struck true with his crossbow. The tattooed man capered up and down in a bizarre parody of the fugues performed by Monks of Hutenkama.

“That’s right! Strike hard and strike true”, shouted Gerard and suiting actions to words, he lunged forwards and rammed his spear deep into the eye of an approaching triton. The creature emitted a watery scream that was terrible to hear. Thrashing about in its agony, the beast almost ripped the spear from Gerard’s hands in the violence of its death throes. Tightening his grip, Gerard swallowed deeply and freed his weapon. Its bloodied tip quavered a little as he pointed it at the next triton.

Keen to take part in his companions success, the Mortec pushed violently down on the arms of his weapon in a bid to arm it before the tritons overran his position. The satisfying click of the arms snapping into place was immediately followed by the unpleasant crack of wood. A part of his crossbow had been broken by his hasty action and tension released from the weapon resonated painfully through his arms. Mortec cast the mangled weapon aside and tried to put some distance between himself and the spear casts of the enemy.

From his vantage near the boat Argonne freed a length of cloth from around his waist, revealing it to be a sling. Placing a stone in the pouch, he thrummed it around his head. The eerie whine built to a pitch as he made his cast. The stone travelled on a flat, dangerous trajectory, but missed the pirate and cracked against a wall. Disappointed, the woodsman fumbled another stone from his pouch.

As the others fought, Stravarius reached the bars of the prison door. Acting with haste, he threw aside a thick bolt and wrenched the door open. The sound of shrieking metal caused the prisoners to cower in fear. Ignoring the humans, Stravarius went straight to the cell containing the tritons, who gurgled fearfully to each other in their strange aquatic language. Their cell was secured by a rusty iron lock.

Thinking quickly, Stravarius grabbed a metal torch holder from the wall and smashed it repeatedly against the mechanism. Though strong enough to defeat frail prisoners, the lock was heavily corroded and the ancient iron broke asunder from the powerful rain of blows the Black Elf lavished upon it. Without troubling to explain himself, Stravarius shouldered one of the retainers aside and seized the prince. With a grunt he threw the fish man across his shoulders and staggered back in the direction of the Hydra. Struggling under the triton’s weight, he hoped that his gamble would pay off.

At the dock, the companions were under intense pressure as they tried to withstand the triton’s assault. Gerard lunged once more with his spear but failed to strike a triton that swayed sinuously out of the way. He hopped back frantically, barely escaping a disembowelling thrust from the fish man. Rumscully Jack laughed deeply in approval of the carnage. His humour further improved after he sculled the contents of a potion retrieved from a belt pouch. The pain of his wounds faded, and he looked to take a more active part in the fight. Rapier in hand, the pirate leader moved easily across the churning waters of the cove. His sword deftly parried a dagger hurled at him by Mortec and a sudden dodge to his left defeated the stone and bolt sent his way by Argonne and Moxadder.

Lungs and muscles burning with effort, Stravarius approached the entrance to the cove. In the doorway he saw Mortec taking cover while beside him stood Morgan with bent bow in hand. The Fastendian loosed his arrow and watched it slice across the pirates side. Rumscully Jack’s response was almost too quick to see. Still loath to close within range of too many foes, he reached down into his boot and hurled a knife at Morgan’s chest. The throw was a powerful one, though it struck a little lower than intended. The warrior gave a ‘woof’ of pain and surprise at the dagger in his guts and sank weakly to his knees. With the single mindedness that was a characteristic of his people, he groped for another arrow from his quiver. The pirate’s satisfaction was short lived, for the next instance, a bolt cut into the meat of his left arm. Spinning to the right he saw the gangling crazed one give a distorted grin of triumph.

Deprived of his principal weapon, Mortec reached to his belt but was dismayed to find he had no more daggers. Unable to press his attack, he turned to Morgan. Readying a small prayer, he yanked the dagger from the man’s gut in a burst of dark blood. He quickly placed his finger on the injury and released the trickle of power he had drawn. Though the wound didn’t close, it ceased bleeding and gave the Fastendian some relief.

Gerard was the first to hear Stravarius’ heavy foot steps as he returned to the fray. Distracted by the Black Elf’s burden, he nearly missed a parry against the thrust of a spiral pointed spear. Wincing at his close escape, he prayed to Laster that Stravarius knew what he was doing.

“You’d better be worth it” Stravarius muttered as he staggered across the last few yards to the dock’s edge and heaved the enfeebled triton into the water. A stone whined past his head, another ill directed cast from Argonne. Breathing raggedly, the Black Elf was beyond caring. Collapsed to his knees he watched his triton sink beneath the surface.

 

[Fiasco]

As the sea caressed the triton’s body, its dull clammy scales began to shine with colour. Responding as if to a miraculous tonic, the body took on vigour and even the eyes achieved a sparkling semblance of life. The prince kicked back in ecstasy, savouring the rush of good clean water flowing through his hungered gills.

For a few precious seconds the fish man lost himself in communion with his element before he mastered himself and kicked powerfully back up to the surface. Slapping the flat of his webbed hand against the water, he instantly drew the attention of his kin. Gurgling words of strange potency, he raised a clenched fist high into the air and then plunged it dramatically into the water. As one, the other tritons shook themselves as if emerging from an unpleasant dream. Immediately, they turned from the Hydra and began to menace their former master. The prince, overcome by his effort, lapsed back into the waters, immersing himself again in the healing fluid.

Rumscully Jack was caught completely off guard by the turn around, giving the tritons time to encircle him in a ring of scales and spears. It took the sting of another arrow from Morgan to stir him to action. He feinted a move to his left which drew several false thrusts from the tritons. This gave him all the opening he needed and he charged at the surprised fish folk. Just as it looked like he must run into their upraised spears he launched himself skyward, the power of his leap making a great depression in the water. Spears flashed in crisscross fashion amidst the sparkling waters, but nimble Jack proved too quick. A clear path to the open sea lay before him and he ran towards it unhindered until a bolt from Moxadder sunk deep into the back of his thigh.

Gerard ran around the edge of the dock, hoping to cut off Jack’s escape. Despite a powerful burst of acceleration, it seemed doubtful he would make it in time. Mortec also acted in desperation, hurling the bloodied dagger he’d removed from Morgan. The distance was long, however and the blade merely skimmed into the sea. It fell to Argonne to act. As the pirate hobbled past him, he launched himself from the dock and tried to haul the pirate captain down. Despite his many wounds, Rumscully Jack managed to duck the tackle, causing the woodsman to belly flop into the water. Feeling himself going under, Argonne grabbed hold of his enemies legs to save himself from drowning.

Watching the woodsman’s failed attack, Stravarius cursed in frustration. He was too spent and too far away to be of any assistance. Beside him, Morgan gave a grunt of pain as he drew back and released an arrow. It was a fine effort, piercing the reaver once more in the arm. Almost as if scenting blood, the pursuing tritons fell upon the distracted pirate. Jack was nimble, but he was pierced to the quick. At least three spears found their mark, yet still the man struggled onwards. Powered by a fury that threatened to overcome any obstacle, he heaved himself from amidst the mass of fish folk. With a savage kick, he also broke Argonne’s hold and leapt free once more. Thighs pumping powerfully, he strained the enchantment of his boots to their limit as he sought traction from the water.

Desperately, the tritons struck at his back but despite receiving another wound the irrepressible pirate struggled onwards. To the watching Hydra, it seemed that Rumscully Jack would make good his escape when Gerard charged into the equation. The nobleman had anticipated well and his run had brought him close to his target. Seeing his chance, he leaped hard and high over the water, his spear clutched overhead with both hands. Falling from the sky like a mythical avenger he plunged his spear deep into the reaver’s back. This final blow proved too much, bringing the burly pirate down, though his enchanted boots kept his legs bizarrely afloat. Gerard’s own momentum terminated with a shock of salt water to the face. It did nothing to quell his fierce satisfaction at having brought their quarry down.

At the fall of Rumscully Jack, the tritons ceased their martial posturing and swam back to their prince. Thrashing mightily, Argonne managed to reach the edge of the dock, as did Gerard. The pair turned their attention to their vanquished foe who had also floated within reach. With difficulty, the two dragged the inert body up onto the deck. To their surprise, the pirate still held his rapier clutched tight in his right first. When Gerard tried to pry it from his grasp, he noticed the man was still breathing. Shaking his head in amazement at the buccaneers resilience, he called for rope with which to bind the pirate. The triton prince overheard his words and swam over to them with three easy strokes despite his weakened condition. With his guard pressed close about him, he spoke.

“I thank you most deeply for my rescue. I had truly despaired of seeing these rich waters again. If the man lives, I ask that you give him over to me so that he might face the wrath of my people.”

“Nay good denizen of the sea”, Gerard refused as politely as he could. “Though I am most pleased to have been of service to you, I fear that I cannot accede to your request. This man has pillaged the coast of Guerney and caused much harm. He must be questioned hard on his deeds and motivations, and after that he shall receive even harder justice”. He looked steadily at the prince and was about to speak further when the body of the triton he had killed floated between them. The limp body had been robbed of all the grace it had possessed in life, and the sightless eyes of the fish man stared upwards between the pair, as if in accusation. Gerard swallowed hard and hoped he didn’t betray his sudden discomfort.

The prince seemed to ponder deeply, then spoke, “Very well. The debt I owe you compels me to obey your wishes. But know this. If we ever see him alive we will bend all our vengeance against him. Of more immediate concern are my companions. I ask that you bring them from their cells ere they die of deprivation.”

Argonne and Morgan immediately leapt to do the princes bidding. Satisfied, the prince continued. “I also require you to return those items that the beast stole from me. The prince moved forwards and took a bright (and in Gerard’s opinion quite gaudy) necklace from the neck of Rumscully Jack. Searching the pirates belt, he also took an unusual wavy bladed dagger and the conch shell. The last, he pressed into Gerard’s hand.

“This horn holds puissance throughout the Cursed Sea. If you give it wind, it will summon the aid of the tritons. I give this item freely to you, but I caution you to use it wisely.” As the prince concluded his speech, his two companions in misery were carried into view by Morgan and Stravarius. The two captives were helped into the water, where once again, the soothing water seemed to repair much harm. The prince of the tritons looked once again at the Hydra.

“My name is Prince Ssilonquain. Before I leave, I would like to learn the names of my benefactors, that I might speak of your deeds to my people.”

One by one, the companions gave their names, and the noble creature nodded its head at each announcement. At the conclusion he spoke again. “Very well then, my thanks and farewell. I am pleased that the people of the dry lands are not all as despicable as the ones who held me captive”. With that, the tritons sank beneath the water and swam powerfully down the channel leading to the sea. With a flash of silver scale and a swirl of green hair they were gone.

 

[Fiasco]

Those injured in the fight saw to their wounds while the others returned to the dining hall. To their dismay, one of the prisoners was missing. Gelleck, it seemed, had freed himself of his bonds, though both Bethpry and Khossus remained. The comatose body of Rumscully Jack was dragged in to join them, then stripped of possessions and bound tight.

The escape of the prisoner left the Hydra nervous. They all felt as though they had ridden their luck to the limit. By some miracle they had wandered into the heart the pirates’ lair and prevailed, capturing their leader to boot. They felt an acute superstition, almost a premonition that the slightest carelessness or oversight would bring the entire edifice of their fortune down upon them. The knowledge that the rest of the pirate fleet was due back at any time was no small part of their trepidation.

While Mortec and Stravarius guarded the prisoners, Moxadder and Argonne searched the rest of the lair. Gerard and Morgan went to the aid of the remaining prisoners. Amongst Rumscully Jack’s possessions they had found a ring of keys and they were confident they could effect the captives release.

To the searchers, the rest of the lair yielded little of interest, consisting largely of barracks, guest rooms and a kitchen. Rumscully Jack’s room proved to be the exception. Even here, Argonne and Moxadder’s initial search found little of value. Frustrated, the Irudeshian began to pay closer attention to the walls. Squinting, he shuffled back and forth across the room, measuring distances in his mind. Eventually, he gave a snort and marched directly to the centre of the South Western wall. He probed a slender crack with a dagger and managed to swing clear an entire section of the wall.

Beyond lay the stuff to bring excitement to the heart of any seeker of fortune. A small square room was revealed that contained two large chests pushed against its back wall. Barely controlling his excitement, Moxadder forced himself to examine them carefully for traps. The livid scar on his chest was a potent reminder of the price for incaution. After careful scrutiny, he pronounced them safe to move and they set about dragging their find back to the central room.

Back in the main hall, Stravarius paced agitatedly before the captive pirates while Mortec squatted in front of Kuruul. “What did you do to make the fog disappear?” The gnome asked. The hound merely yawned, sending a waft of foul breath across the priest’s face. “Hrrmp, be that way, you recalcitrant beast” muttered the gnome. Frustrated in his enquiry, he turned his attention to Rumscully Jack’s items.

The tarnished, silver chased horn was definitely enchanted; they had already witnessed its properties. The pirate’s rapier was also of interest. Muttering a quick prayer, he confirmed that enchantments had been laid across the blade. Mortec rubbed his hands together. Not only had their mission proved successful, it would most likely be materially rewarding as well. Assuming they escaped, he reminded himself with a nervous glance at the cove.

At the cells, the prisoners had been rapturous at the arrival of Gerard and Morgan. Smiling a little condescendingly, Gerard worked at the locks with Rumscully Jack’s keys and managed to spring them open. Holding a scented kerchief to his face, he commanded the residents to identify themselves.

The captives began to clamour at once, detailing their suffering at the hands of the pirates at the top of their voices. Through sheer force of personality, Gerard was able to calm them down and impose some semblance of order. Questioning rapidly established they had all been taken from Ravenswood. The middle aged man was Olvan the boatwright, while the two young women were Leesha and Nadine. The old woman was Wilima, who had been sharing a cell with an old man. He had died the previous night. None of them knew him and he had seemed addled.

Looking at the abject condition of the villagers, Gerard decided that further questioning would be fruitless until they were properly fed and rested. With Morgan’s help he began to herd them towards the main hall. As they went he explained that they had killed all of the pirates they could find, but that they would have to leave quickly before more came.

On their return they saw that the others were all anxious to depart. Mortec had conceived of the idea to take the longboat and load it up with whatever they wished to take. Working quickly, the Hydra raided the pirate’s stores and took as much drink and food stuffs as they could stow. Loading these and the two chests taken from the secret room, they next turned to carrying their three prisoners aboard. Finally, the villagers and the Hydra boarded the boat. Even with over a dozen passengers, the craft easily accommodated them all. With Argonne in charge, they gently pushed the craft along the narrow channel and out into the open sea.

Their emergence into the clean air and gentle waves of the ocean was akin to being reborn. Once they saw the horizon was free of vengeful pirate fleets they let go of their accumulated stress and fear. They had fought and won three battles in one day. Though all of them had suffered wounds, their relief at having survived helped to the dull the pain better than any tonic could have.

Despite the general euphoria of the Hydra, Argonne kept his head. Instead of drifting aimlessly in the water, he set them to rowing the boat along the coast away from the Port of Warlock. He was determined to find somewhere secluded to land so that they could question prisoners and examine the loot in peace.

They rowed for an hour, more than enough time for the rowers to lose their exhilaration and feel the ache of every one of their cuts and bruises with each stroke of the oar. Finally, the Woodsman saw something that pleased his eyes and fifteen minutes later they had taken the boat into a sheltered cove. They dropped anchor and began ferrying supplies and prisoners to shore.

The villagers of Ravenswood were exhausted and barely had the strength to eat a simple meal before falling asleep. The Hydra light heartedly began making camp, exchanging jokes and banter as they relived their triumph. Eventually they ran out of words and merely grinned whenever they caught each others eye. They had bearded Rumscully Jack in his den and lived to tell the tale. Whatever the troubles of the morrow, this was a day to savour.

*****​

 

[HalfOrc HalfBiscuit]

Good to see you back up to date, Fiasco.

 

[Fiasco]

Chapter 6​

Morgan leant back against a boulder and surveyed the campsite. Beside him a fire crackled soothingly, the white driftwood burning blue and smokeless in the late afternoon. The aroma from the stew pot made his mouth water but he stifled his appetite. The rapidity with which the villagers were consuming their food indicated they would soon be after second helpings, and then most probably a third. The Fastendian didn’t begrudge them. A little personal discomfort was nothing when weighed against what the others had suffered.

Nearby, Moxadder stood concealed in the shadows of the cliffs which formed the backdrop to the tiny cove. He had also disregarded the meal, choosing instead to draw on his Devil Weed while keeping a close watch upon the heavily trussed figure of Rumscully Jack.

Morgan shared his concern, indeed a bow lay close to hand, an arrow already knocked against the string. The people of the Fastness knew well that an enemy was never to be trusted, even one that appeared helpless. Kuruul grunted as he scratched a flea in his sleep, then wedged his powerful rump more firmly against Morgan’s legs. At times like this it was hard to believe that the beast was anything other than a warhound.

Concealed higher up amongst the rocks, Stravarius surveyed his companions from beneath his voluminous hood. Though best suited for night vision, his eyes were sufficient for him to keep vigil for approach from the sea. Below him in their sheltered cove, Argonne fussed about Plunderer, their captured ship. It had been dragged ashore behind an outcropping of rocks. The woodsman made sure that it was invisible to ships on the sea and safe from the vagrancies of the tides.

Gerard and Mortec shared the meal with the villagers. The gnome, so grim and fell in battle was of a completely different temperament in social settings. With skill and patience he worked with Gerard in teasing out the finest details of the pirate attacks from their charges as they ate their fill. By the time evening fell and the exhausted prisoners fell into a deep slumber, the pair felt confident they had learned all there was on the subject. Morgan stood and looked pointedly at their captive. The time had come for Rumscully Jack to answer to the Hydra.

They dragged him away from the camp, the waxing moon throwing gleams off their exposed metal. The pirate lord remained still, whether from his wounds, fear or exhaustion, the companions could not tell. Stravarius propped him upright against a boulder and with an uncovered face, scrutinised him with his burning gaze. The Rumscully Jack’s eyes widened a little but showed no other reaction. Satisfied the prisoner was still secured, the Black Elf removed the gag and stepped back into the half circle of his companions. Alone, injured and in deadly peril for his life, still the pirate gave a rasping chuckle as he surveyed his captors one by one.

“Well lads”, he said, “You’ve managed to capture the great Rumscully Jack. I dare say you’ve gotten more than you bargained for. Why, you look more scared than I do! Tell me, what are your plans for old Jack?”

“We shall execute you”, said Gerard shortly, determined to quash the pirate’s insolence. Another chuckle rumbled forth from that barrel chest.

“I think not. You’d have already cut my throat if that was your game. No, you need me or you fear me. Whichever it is, tread carefully. Whenever I give a little, I take a lot in return.”

“We could torture you”, Mortec chimed in. The expression on his face was not kind.

“Aye you could. Some of you might even have the stomach for it”, he said, eyeing Stravarius and Moxadder. But it’s a nasty, dirty business and I don’t break easy. It will take time, and that you don’t have. Leastways so I judge”.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the Hydra. Rumscully Jack’s words rang disconcertingly true. They may have bested him, but the bulk of his fleet might already be scouring the coastline for him. At least one pirate had made his escape and could easily have reached the Port of Warlock by now. The chill of the night, a murderer’s moon in the air, served to heighten the threats articulated by the pirate. Waves crashed against the shore, uncaring of the party’s dilemma.

“I’m sure you want to live”, said Gerard, changing tack. “But we need a reason for sparing you. Tell us why you have been ravaging the coast of Guerney. Tell us the purpose of your raids and at whose behest you made them”.

Rumscully Jack shifted his position a little, wincing at the pain this caused. “Aye, I can guess what you want. Unfortunately, It’s more than my life is worth to tell you.”

“Are you sure? It’s your life that is forfeit if you don’t tell us.”

“I wish I could, I surely do. But there are things my employers would do to me that are far worse than death. And they would know what I have said”, his gaze strayed towards Stravarius. “They always find out in the end”.

“You’d better worry about what we’ll do first”, Morgan snorted in annoyance. “What then do you offer in return for your life, you murdering thief!”

Rumscully Jack exhaled heavily. For a second his bluster disappeared, revealing a heavily wounded man tired almost beyond endurance. Mortec saw even deeper; a life spent chasing after easy gains, a constant battle against the elements in order to wrest something precious from others. By the lines in his face it was evident he had plied his trade a long time. Unrepentant though he was, the ultimate emptiness of his life was just beginning to dawn on him. There would never be a final haul that would allow him to retire and enjoy his wealth. Danger, hardship, and then death by the sea or sword were all that awaited him. A wasted life, as human lives so often were. They set their sights so low. Nevertheless, this man had accepted his fate. Face hardening, the pirate responded to Morgan’s words.

“I offer you my wealth on this island, what little information I can give, safety from your enemies and the friendship of all the pirates of the cursed sea. Do not discount the last!” He said, forestalling another interruption from Morgan. “We have a code of sorts and my word carries weight on these waters.”

“You offer little that we don’t already have”, sneered Gerard. “Your treasure is already ours, I’d wager and your friendship we can do without if we must”, he added sarcastically. “I wonder that you didn’t offer us our lives as well!”

“I am offering you your lives you damn fools!” Jack roared despite his wounds. “If you are lucky, LUCKY! My absence has not yet been noted and if I return, I can pass of the entire thing as a failed raid. Delay much longer and my employers will know something’s afoot. Once their suspicions are roused, they won’t relent until they have everyone put to question. You won’t last a day. Look at you, a bunch of no-nothing fools who haven’t even the wit to appreciate the luck you’ve had so far!”

The Hydra were momentarily taken aback by the pirate’s outburst. Moxadder broke the silence. “He’s right”, then facing Rumscully Jack, “We’ll take what you offer, but screw us around and I’ll cut your throat”. For a brief second, the stooped figure of the Irudeshian was transformed. Rearing up to his full height he towered over the bound form their captive, seemingly fully capable of carrying out his threat. The image only held for a second, then a rasping cough shook his frame and the alley denizen slunk back to his patch of shadow.

“Very well then, Rumscully, we will accept your bargain”, said Mortec with a sidelong glance at Moxadder. “But you must also swear not to pursue vengeance against us”.

“Nor to plunder the coast of Guerney”, Gerard added. “Now tell us what you can”.

“I’ll have yer oath’s first”, responded the reaver. “I’m to be released unharmed before the break of day”.

“By Laster, I so swear”, said Gerard, accepting the decision of gnome and Irudeshian. “If you fulfil your side of the undertaking, you shall be released free and unharmed ere the dawn light strikes Sorcerer’s Isle. The others also swore, each in their own fashion, binding themselves to the bargain lest the wrath of Gods and Fate strike them down.

Then the pirate also swore an oath, pledging the friendship of the pirates of the cursed sea. True to his word, he revealed the location of the secret treasure chamber in the Blood Sail’s lair. He also identified the virtue of several items taken from his person. The ring that allowed him to walk on water and the great horn that summoned great billows of fog when winded. He named his blade Eldritch Light, and said that its virtue was to prevent the wielder from bleeding to death from his wounds.

Morgan began to berate Rumscully Jack trying to extract a promise to change his ways, then stopped, frustrated. The pirate leader was steeped in evil, and no words from the Fastendian would change this wolf who fed upon the lambs of humanity. He clamped his mouth shut in frustration. He’s companions appeared oddly pleased with themselves, glad to be rid of Jack in exchange for an undertaking not to raid the coasts of Guerney. The short sighted fools! As ever, they appeared incapable of seeing the wider picture. In return for vague and most likely useless information, they had loosed a dread pirate upon the shores of the Fastness. He was tired of the compromises that could allow a killer of men to walk free in return for the merest scrap of what he knew. Not for the first time since arriving on the island he yearned to walk the walls of Avinal once more.

Once freed of his bonds the pirate captain began to limp painfully towards the track along the cliff top. He looked over his shoulder at the companions and imparted his final words.

“If might be worth your while to take the Eastern path back to Port of the Warlock” he said with a gleam of mischief in his eye. The path he indicated was the narrow, trail they had followed from the house of Grisha, the dwarven spell worker.

The following morning they rose at dawn. The first order of business was to send the freed slaves back to Yorathton aboard the Plunderer, the vessel they had taken from the pirate lair. Though still weak from their ordeal, Olvan had been confident that he and the others could sail back to Guerney, especially with the favourable winds blowing from the Island. For the Hydra it was a relief to send them on their way and be free of their responsibility to them.

In the light of day they decided to examine the chests taken from the pirates lair. The contents had proven most satisfactory. In addition to hundreds of silver coins, several items of magic had also been found. Argonne and Stravarius had each claimed a magic ring of unknown power. Throwing caution to the wind, both had immediately tried them to, with no apparent effect. The Black Elf also took possession of Rumscully Jack’s horn of fog. A metal spear named Irongut was claimed by Morgan, along with a dozen enchanted silver arrows and a high quality chain shirt. Moxadder chose the horn given them by the triton prince. The gnome gained possession of a ring or water walking, two magic scrolls bearing divine magic and a non magical but well made crossbow. Several unidentified magic potions were distribute amongst them as well. The coin had been evenly distributed and those goods too heavy to carry had been placed back in the chests and concealed in the cove.

*****​

 

[HalfOrc HalfBiscuit]

Bit surprised they didn't just string him up when he refused to talk! Still, let's hope our heroes don't regret this too much ...