Travels through the Wild West: a Forgotten Realms Story

[Lazybones]

Book II, Part 6

“Permission to come aboard, Captain Horath,” Cal said loudly from atop the gangplank.

“Permission granted,” the elf replied, gesturing for him and the others to join him on the rear deck of the Raindancer. The four companions made their way through the busy stir of activity as the crew of the sloop, a mixed group of twenty men and women of various races, readied the craft for departure.

The ship was a sleek vessel, twin masted, perhaps twenty feet in beam and just under a hundred in length, its form a compromise between speed and carrying capacity. A heavy ballista was mounted in the bow, and a bright standard showing the sigil of Waterdeep fluttered in the wind at the stern.

As they reached the aft deck, clambering up a short but steep stair to reach the raised area, the captain gestured to a woman standing beside him. To their surprise, the woman was a halfling, smaller even than Cal, but with a stern expression on her face as she looked them over.

“I’d like to present Ruath Talasca, most gracious servant of the Smiling Lady,” the captain said in introduction. The halfling shot a brief glance at the elf that seemed almost… suspicious, but quickly shifted her attention back to the companions.

“A pleasure, always, to meet one of the followers of Lady Luck,” Cal replied with a polite bow. “I am Balander Calloran, or just ‘Cal,’ if you please, at your service, and these are my companions, Lok, Benzan, and Delem.”

Ruath’s expression did not change. “Well, you all certainly look dangerous enough. You were saying, captain, why we had to delay our departure?”

“Just for the afternoon tide, ma’am. I assure you, we’ll be well on our way by nightfall, with a following wind to speed our way.”

The cleric let out a harrumph, but did not question him further. “If you don’t mind then, captain, I will retire to my quarters. Please notify me when you are prepared to depart, so that I may offer a blessing for our safe journey. Gentlemen,” she said to the four companions with a dismissive nod of her head, then turned and descended the stairs down to the lower deck.

“Charming woman,” Benzan said, once she was safely out of earshot. “I shudder to think of what she’d be like if she were full-sized.”

“Crewman!” the captain called out, summoning a passing youth from the lower deck. “Maric here will show you to your quarters—I hope you don’t mind sharing a stateroom, but accommodations are a little crowded on a vessel like this. You don’t have any extra baggage?” the captain asked them.

“We like to travel light,” Cal said, feeling that it was probably better to keep the existence of their magical stash in the bag of holding quiet for now. “We are expecting one more member of our party, however, a young woman. Have you seen her, yet?”

“No,” the captain said, frowning slightly, but then Delem cried, “There she is!” They looked out over the rail, and there indeed was Dana Ilgarten, running up the dock at quite a rapid pace, a heavy satchel slung over one shoulder.

“I’m afraid I don’t have another private room available,” the captain said as the young woman drew rapidly nearer, weaving her way through the crowd of people on the docks.

“Oh, put her with lady Talasca,” Benzan said. “I’m sure that the good cleric won’t mind some company.”

The captain’s grin was contagious. “An excellent idea.”

* * * * *

The sun was just about to touch the waves on the western horizon when the Raindancer made its way out of the harbor into the open seas. The sleek ship had the afternoon tide to itself, for though Baldur’s Gate was a busy port, there were many captains who chose not to hazard the rough winter storms common along the Sword Coast at this time of year. Dark clouds to the north and west promised another such storm shortly, and people in the city went about their business with a sense of urgency in their steps, enjoying the respite while they had it.

From the southwestern battlements of the city, looking out over the frothing whitecaps of the sea, someone watched the ship as it headed out into the horizon. The light of the setting sun shone brightly on the slick stone of the battlements around her, while the wind tugged at her plain cloak and caused her hair to dance in the air behind her.

A second figure came out of the shadows of a nearby guard tower, a man, moving to join the lone watcher. She shifted her gaze briefly to him at his coming, then looked back out at the seas where the ship was already just a speck in the distance.

“I thought I might find you here,” the man said to the woman. “I heard that you sent those four who stirred up a hornet’s nest in Elturel along with your emissary.”

“Yes,” she responded. “An unusual group of companions—unlikely heroes indeed, but perhaps what is needed at this junction of events.”

“Are you sure it is the right decision, sending them out of the Western Heartlands at this time?” the man asked.

“These are tumultuous times we are facing,” the woman responded, “Not suited for certainty of any sort, I think. But for those four, who did so much in such a short time, it is better that they leave these troubled shores for a while. With luck, they may earn the experience that they will need for the trials to come, and return to us like the steel that is tempered in the forge…”

For a while neither of them said anything more, as the sun began to sink into the western sea. “May the luck of the Lady follow your steps, travelers,” the woman finally whispered, and the two left the seascape behind them for the noise and clutter of the city.

 

[Lazybones]

Book II, Part 7

The full sails of the Raindancer strained with the potency of the cold northern winds, driving the ship through the ocean swells on its long southern journey. A tenday had passed since the craft had left Baldur’s Gate, and this blustery day the crew was enjoying a respite from the numerous winter storms that they had passed through thus far on their voyage. Captain Horath had his crew crawling over the ship, both abovedecks and below, making repairs, checking lines and rigging, and inventorying the supplies that they had remaining. The vessel had stopped briefly in Athlatka to take on supplies, and now was making for Asavir’s Channel, along the western peninsula of Tethyr.

The long days had not passed quickly for the companions. As passengers, they spent most of their days in their stateroom, venturing out when the close quarters and forced inactivity made tempers tight and patience thin.

Lok’s incredible fortitude seemed to have found a weakness, as his companions quickly observed. Perhaps it was the fact of being separated from the earth that was a part of his heritage, or more simply just the constant rocking of the ship on the wind and the waves. The genasi spent much of the first tenday in his bunk, unable to disguise his discomfort with his usual implacable front. When he could rise he spent much of his time helping the crew, putting his skills in metalworking to good use in keeping the ship in good repair through the harsh weather.

Cal did spend some time plying his lute, singing songs and easing some of the tensions among the crew and passengers, but he still seemed rather withdrawn. He spent a great deal of time in their cabin, examining his spellbook under the light of a shielded lantern. It seemed that some of the effects of his brush with mortality still lingered about the gnome, and he was particularly preoccupied with the magical power that he’d lost through the experience as he continued his arcane researches.

Benzan was… well, Benzan was, in a word, antsy. True to his word, he did spent hours examining the magical writings that he’d acquired in Baldur’s Gate, but it was clear from his frequent exclamations of frustration that he could not yet master the mysteries of the magic. Cal did provide him with help, as he had promised, and said that he could sense the spark of talent in the Art in his friend, but it seemed as though Benzan was not ready, not yet. Instead he spent time gambling with the sailors, who quickly got over their unease around him, exploring every nook and corner of the ship, and drinking most of the wine they’d brought in their bag of holding.

Delem spent most of the voyage deep in his own thoughts. He could spend hours staring at the flickering flame that burned within their lantern, lost in contemplation. It was clear to his companions that his powers were growing quickly, and that the young man had to come to grips with those new abilities on his own. While still solitary in his mood and manner, he was no longer alone. He drew strength from the presence of his friends, and no longer seemed as skittish, uncertain, as he once had been. He spent some time with Dana as well, talking about philosophy and religion, and learning more about their respective backgrounds.

The five of them were together now on the fore deck of the ship as it cuts its rapid path through the waves, enjoying the break in the weather and the opportunity to take in some sun and fresh air, cold though it may be.

“How much longer do you think it will take?” Dana was asking.

“Some tendays yet, I gather,” Cal replied. “We’re approaching the narrows between the horn of Tethyr and the Nelanther Isles, Asavir’s Channel, they call it. The captain will take us down the coast, along the passage mariners call the Race, to the coastal cities of western Calimshan, then across the Shining Sea to Chult.”

“Seems a roundabout way to go,” Delem said. “Wouldn’t it just be faster to sail straight south, and go directly to Chult?”

“Shorter, perhaps, but not faster,” Cal answered. “The Trackless Sea is known by that name for a reason, and most captains aren’t going to want to risk that much open ocean without cause.”

“The Amnians went all the way to Maztica,” Dana offered.

“Yes, and many of their mariners have paid the price for that bold venture,” Cal replied.

Their discussion was interrupted as the watchman in the crow’s nest high atop the mainmast called out a sighting, drawing the attention of everyone on board to the rear of the vessel. Benzan rushed down to the aft deck, the others close at his heels, to where the captain stood looking through a small pocket spyglass. Ruath, whom they had barely seen during the journey, was standing beside him.

“What is it, captain?” Benzan asked.

The captain did not turn, continuing to look out toward the distant horizon. “Looks like we have a shadow,” he finally said.

“Who is it?” Delem asked.

The captain handed the spyglass to the sailor beside him, and turned to face them. “No way to be sure at this distance,” he said, “But this close to the Nelanther Isles, I can hazard a pretty good guess.”

“Pirates,” Benzan said.

Ruath frowned in the direction of their pursuer, as if her displeasure alone could make the distant ship disappear. “Can you outrun them?” she asked.

The captain nodded. “We’ll see.”

* * * * *

The day passed slowly, the entire crew filled with a nervous tension as their pursuer drew steadily nearer. Captain Horath kept the crew busy, working the sails to maximize every last bit of wind, or unloading heavy crossbows from the ship’s weapons lockers and readying them for use. Still, there were many glances back at the closing vessel, even though it was still too distant for them to make out any details about the craft.

The passengers joined in as best they could, helping the sailors and making their own preparations in case a battle was indeed approaching. It was mid-afternoon when the companions finally gathered again on the aft deck, where the captain was again looking through his glass at their ‘shadow’. The ship was near enough now to make out with the naked eye. It was a sleek vessel, clearly built for speed, yet significantly smaller than the Raindancer. It seemed to leap across the waves, as if the craft itself was eager to reach them.

The captain lowered the spyglass, and the expression on his face told them the news was not good. “It’s the Gray Raker,” he said.

“A pirate ship?” Delem asked.

“Indeed,” the captain replied. “Commanded by a minotaur captain, and word is that he’s gotten a wizard, too.”

“Sail ho, starboard forward!” came a cry from the crow’s nest, drawing their attention away from their pursuer to the starboard rail. Even without the spyglass they could see not one, but two sails in the distance, heading closer.

“I don’t suppose those would be Tethyrian cutters, coming to our aid,” Benzan said wryly.

“No,” the captain replied.

Effectively flanked, the Raindancer sailed on, while the pirate vessels closed swiftly on her position.

 

[Horacio]

The story begins to move again, another fight is beign announced... Pirates!

I'd have never supposed they would find a pirate ship...
Cool! I like pirates!

 

[Lazybones]

Book II, Part 8

Once it was clear that the Raindancer would not outrun her pursuers before the fall of night, Captain Horath ordered his crew to trim the sails and they prepared for the attack.

The three pirate vessels were all well smaller than the Raindancer, with the Gray Raker perhaps half the size of the merchantman and the other two vessels even smaller, single-masted cutters each with a single deck. Between the three of them, though, they looked to have at least twice the number of pirates onboard as Horath’s crew, and that wasn’t even considering the impact of the minotaur captain and the wizard he was rumored to have on board.

The three pirate vessels converged on the merchantman, the Gray Raker sweeping in from the port side while its twin allies came in from starboard. As the pirate vessels neared bow range the companions could see the pirates eagerly waiting along the rails and even in the rigging of their ships, with bows, grapples, or cutlasses at the ready. They were of mixed race, with humans, orcs, and hobgoblins represented, but all seemed equally ready to plunder the surrounded merchantman.

Horath’s men and women had equipped themselves for battle, setting up six crank-operated heavy crossbows in shielded mountings along the rail, and preparing the heavy ballista in the bow for use. Several of the other crewmen had other missile weapons, light crossbows or short bows, and all carried a cutlass, mace, or club for melee. The elf captain himself produced a massive longbow, and slung a quiver full of arrows over his shoulder.

The companions made their final preparations as well. Cal used his wand of mage armor on himself, Delem, and Dana, and all of them prepared their missile weapons for use. They were all positioned on the aft deck, where the enemy fire would first be concentrated, behind the bales and barrels that the sailors had placed along the rail for cover.

“If you see that wizard, be sure to take him out first,” Benzan reminded them.

The heavy twang of the ballista marked the opening of the battle, the missile flying across the waves to strike one of the smaller ships just below the rail, doing no damage. The crewmen manning the engine rapidly moved to reload it, while the pirate ships drew swiftly closer.

And then the arrows started to fly.

Most of the missiles struck harmlessly in the deck or into the makeshift barriers they had erected, but a scream from the lower deck behind them spoke of at least one arrow finding its mark. The men and women of the Raindancer returned fire, their missiles raking the decks of the pirate ships, scoring at least a few hits even at extreme range.

The barrage continued, as the ships drew nearer. And then they spotted the minotaur.

The pirate commander, standing on the deck of the Gray Raker, was a monstrous creature, standing easily half-again the height of the tallest human pirate. He hefted a massive composite longbow, and fired an arrow at the Raindancer. The shot narrowly missed Captain Horath, striking the aft mast and lodging there.

Cal saw that a steaming wisp of smoke rose from where the arrow hit, and that a greasy yellow fluid had spread over the damp wood, eating away at it.

“Acid arrows!” he exclaimed, recognizing the weapon.

“Let him have it!” Benzan cried, targeting the massive beast. They could see that a smaller creature, recognizable as an orc even from several hundred feet away, had moved forward, standing in front of the minotaur.

Benzan’s arrow slashed through the air, and looked like a direct hit until the moment that it bounced off the orc’s chest, deflected by an invisible barrier.

“I think I found the wizard,” he told the others.

Cal was already casting a spell, and as they watched a fountain of water erupted in front of the charging Gray Raker, the spray resolving into a massive sea serpent that reared up out of the water. The cries of the pirates could be heard on the Raindancer, but the ship continued to advance. Cal’s illusion could do little more than block the line of fire of the pirates, as the gnome continued to direct it from his position of cover. A few fired their bows uselessly at the figment, giving them at least some respite from the withering barrage.

But the other two vessels kept up their assault, and more hits were taken about the Raindancer. A crewman went down with an arrow in his throat, and even though Ruath was there quickly, there was nothing that could be done for him. Two others took less critical hits and fell back from the rail, arrows jutting from their torsos.

The exchange of arrows continued as the vessels neared to within three hundred feet, then two hundred. Cal let the concentration on his illusion lapse, and he prepared another spell.

“Delem…”

“Just a little closer,” the sorcerer said, as he reloaded his crossbow.

Captain Horath plied his bow with deadly speed, launching missile after missile at the Gray Raker. He’d scored several hits already, but then he staggered as another acid-tipped missile caught him on the shoulder. The tall elf cried out in pain as the searing acid ate through his studded leather armor and ravaged his flesh beneath.

“Dana, help him!” Cal cried, as he readied his sleep spell.

As the ships closed to within a hundred feet, the spells started to fly, joining the barrage of arrows. The orc, protected from the arrows that continued to fly around him, made a series of arcane gestures and pointed at the ship, summoning his magic.

A storm of icy cold erupted on the raised aft deck of the Raindancer, tearing into the companions and the nearby crewmen. Balls of snow and ice tore into them from the point of origin of the spell, filling them with a cold that threatened to chill them to their very bones. Captain Horath, already seriously hurt, went down, and two of his crew nearby fell also, succumbing to the numbing power of the spell. Dana, caught in the full force of the blast, was staggered, and the rest of them felt some of its force wash over them as well, weakening them.

“Will somebody get that damned wizard!” Benzan growled in frustration. He fired another arrow, but again it was deflected by the arcane magic of the orc wizard. They realized that the orc was making an effective shield for the minotaur, too, who stood behind the wizard and continued to fire its mighty bow. They saw their archer up in the crow’s nest crumple, a smoking arrow stuck in his chest.

Delem fought off the numbing cold and pulled himself up to the rail. Summoning his magic, he released a pair of magic missiles that sped across the distance and struck the wizard, burning through his protections and scoring his chest.

“Yeah, give him some more of that!” Benzan shouted in encouragement.

Delem’s action had unfortunately drawn attention to him, and several arrows came at him from the three vessels. The first few hit the barriers or were turned by his mage armor, but one stuck in his shoulder, knocking him back.

“Delem’s hit!” Lok shouted.

“I’m all right!” the sorcerer cried, although it was clear that he was seriously injured.

With a roar that erupted from all three ships, the pirates slowly slid abreast of the Raindancer, as the arrows and spells continued to fill the air between them. The nearer of the two smaller ships blocked the other, so only one at first could come alongside. Grapnels arched through the air and caught on the rail and in the rigging, pulling the smaller ship closer. On the port side, the Gray Raker was doing the same, and several of its pirates were already clambering into its rigging, preparing to board the merchantman.

“Here they come!” Cal cried, as he launched his sleep spell into a dense cluster of pirates on board the Raker. Four collapsed into magical sleep, but that still left nearly a dozen that started clambering up the side of the Raindancer.

A human pirate swung across from the Raker and landed on the aft deck in front of them, his cutlass bare in his hand. He’d barely caught his balance, though, before Lok barreled into him, his axe ripping the hapless pirate nearly in two. Several others had already boarded via the main deck from both sides of the ship, however, and the crew there was taking heavy casualties from their attacks. The small vessel on the starboard side quickly discharged its entire crew of ten pirates, at their head a massive half-orc who was wielding a battleaxe like a scythe as it cut through the defenders. The last ship was already maneuvering toward the front of the lagging Raindancer, with another half-score of pirates eager to join in before the violence and looting were finished.

On the aft deck, the companions held on, and the surviving crewmembers were retreating to that redoubt and to the raised foredeck, where the ballista crew and several additional crewmembers were still fighting. Captain Horath rose unsteadily, his injuries partially healed by the quick intervention of Ruath, and he drew his rapier as he tried to rally the remnants of his crew to his side. The halfling priestess called upon Tymora in a prayer to steady them and hinder their enemies, although it could not stop the deluge of pirates as they swarmed on them from all directions.

Cal stepped to the edge of the narrow stair that ran down to the lower deck as a wave of pirates pursued several injured crewmen. Once the crewmen had passed, he fired a color spray into the pirates, blasting the first knot of men, orcs, and hobgoblins into unconsciousness. Others came on over their fallen companions, but Benzan was there, firing an arrow into the throat of the first and knocking him back into his companions.

A pair of glowing bolts streaked over from the deck of the Raker, hitting Cal and Benzan. Apparently the orc mage was still going strong.

“Somebody get that mage, damn it!” Benzan repeated as he dropped his bow and drew his scimitar. The remaining pirates seemed reluctant to rush up the narrow stair, but then the half-orc charged forward, spittle falling from its lips as it slavered in mad battle rage, knocking aside two of its own comrades as it came.

Two more pirates swung over to the aft deck on ropes but were repulsed, as captain Horath stabbed one and Dana smacked the second in the face before he could gain his footing. Both fell back into the narrow space between the ships, screaming as they were crushed between the vessels.

And then the minotaur stepped forward. The orc wizard muttered an incantation and touched the creature, infusing him with some arcane magic. The power of the spell was immediately evident as the minotaur leapt straight up into the air, clearing the rail of the Raindancer and landing with a powerful thud squarely in the midst of the embattled companions. The bull-headed monstrosity stood over seven feet tall, dressed in a breastplate and carrying a massive double-bladed axe.

Lok was there to greet its arrival. The genasi did not hesitate, ripping into the towering creature with a powerful stroke to the hip that dug deeply into its muscled flesh.

Delem’s knees shook at the appearance of the minotaur, and he knew that Lok would need help, but he also knew that the enemy wizard was still a deadly threat. Still hurt from the effects of the snowburst and the arrow he’d taken, he staggered across the aft deck and past the deadly melee to the port rail. He looked down on the deck of the Gray Raker, now virtually empty save for a few pirates that had been crippled by arrows.

And the orc wizard, who spotted him and started moving his hands in arcane gestures.

“No you don’t!” Delem shouted, summoning his own magic. The flames came quickly to his call, extending from his hands in a stream that slammed into the chest of the orc. The flames washed over it, burning away even its screams as it crumpled into a burning heap on the deck of the pirate vessel.

The half-orc barbarian led a blind charge up the stairs to the raised aft deck, his axe sweeping ahead for Benzan’s head as he came. Benzan gave ground, letting the axe cut through the air before he countered with a slash that tore into the pirate’s lightly armored chest. The barbarian staggered but its rage kept it coming, countering with a heavy blow that was fortunately partially absorbed by Benzan’s magical armor. Even so, the tiefling was hurt, and it was clear that a blow-for-blow exchange would not be enough to defeat this adversary.

Into the opening forged by the half-orc came another rush of pirates, but even as the first reached the aft deck Cal fired another color spray down the stair, sending several unconscious pirates back into the arms of their fellows.

The minotaur roared a challenge and swept its axe at Lok, the swing backed by the incredible power of its muscular frame. The blow looked strong enough to cleave even the doughty genasi in two—had it connected. Lok managed to dodge back, and the blade only lightly clanged off of his shield, missing wide.

Allies came to the genasi’s aid before the minotaur could recover and attack again. Captain Horath came up behind it and struck with his rapier, but the slender blade could not penetrate the massive pirate’s heavy armor. And then, from the opposite flank, Dana charged in, slicing a shallow cut in its side with her kama.

“Dana, no!” Lok shouted, realizing that the young woman was far outmatched by this adversary.

The warning came too late, as the minotaur twisted nimbly around. Its axe caught Dana on the shoulder, only her sudden dodge keeping it from separating her arm from her body. Even so, the impact spun her around, a fountain of blood flying into the air as she staggered and crumpled to the slippery surface of the deck.

The minotaur grinned in feral satisfaction as it came around again to face the more dangerous adversary, grunting as the genasi scored another hit to the beast’s torso. The minotaur seemed possessed of an incredible fortitude, however, as it raised the deadly axe to strike again.

Benzan, too, was finding himself hard-pressed. The barbarian’s rage was driving it on with a violence that shrugged off the hits the tiefling got in with his scimitar. The tiefling’s agility and magical armor gave him the edge, but even so his side burned where another blow had been only partially absorbed by the mithral links of his chainmail. If that axe caught him solidly, he knew that the battle would be over quickly.

And then he caught sight of Cal out of the corner of his eye, and took heart.

The half-orc came on again in a rush designed to barrel Benzan right off the edge of the ship. He staggered, though, as the gnome cast a spell that clouded his senses, drawing off his rage into a confused daze. The half-orc’s strengths were physical, not mental, so he had little chance of fighting off the spell. The barbarian could only stand there, unable to act, as Benzan grabbed onto it and used its own momentum to toss it over the side of the ship.

The splash from below was very rewarding.

A few short paces away, the battle with the minotaur captain raged on. The beast ignored the feeble thrusts from Horath and focused on Lok. It caught him with a blow that knocked his shield aside and cleaved into the shoulder underneath, but Lok returned the stroke with a counter that ripped another bloody, frost-rimmed gash in the minotaur’s side. The two combatants traded blows like a smith hammering on a forge, but even though Lok was half the size of the minotaur, he refused to give ground.

And yet the contest was heavily weighed toward one outcome. After Lok turned yet another stroke from the minotaur’s massive axe, but before he could counter, the beast suddenly swiveled back and jammed the hilt of the weapon into the genasi’s face. Lok staggered back a step and fell hard, blood flowing in a fountain from his shattered nose. Horath tried to stab at the minotaur again from the flank, but the massive creature spun, and with a speed that belied its considerable size, slammed its horned head down into the elf captain’s face. Horath too crumpled to the deck, unconscious.

The minotaur let out a bellow of triumph over its two fallen foes as it stepped forward, axe lifted high to put an end to Lok’s life.

 

[Horacio]

Oh, oh, oh, these pirates are really nasty...
Waiting next update!!!!

 

[Lazybones]

Book II, Part 9

The minotaur loomed over the fallen genasi, who had lost consciousness and could not see the coming stroke.

But Lok was not alone, and his companions had witnessed his fall. His tenacious defense had bought them precious time, time used to defeat their other foes and now could use to come to their friend’s aid.

Cal was the first to act, unleashing a color spray that wrapped the minotaur’s face in a blinding wreath of flaring lights. The minotaur was far too tough for the spell to take it down, but it dazzled it, causing it to shake its head as it tried to clear its overloaded senses.

Delem was crouched over the prone form of Dana, having just stabilized her with the healing power of Kossuth’s cleansing fire. He lifted a hand and summoned his own innate power to cast a stream of flames that swept over the minotaur’s torso, charring its matted fur and crisping the flesh underneath. It roared out as the pain penetrated its muddled mind, and it projected all of its pain and fury onto the helpless form of Lok before it. The axe began its downward course…

Benzan leapt over his fallen friend, shouting a cry of defiance as his magical scimitar cut a gleaming swath through the air before him. Scimitar and axe intersected paths as the tiefling swept past the towering beast and spun into a smooth turn as he landed smoothly on the slick deck, his blade coming around in a ready flourish. Several feet away, the axe—and the forearm that still clutched it—fell to the hard decking in a bloody mess.

The minotaur reared up, blood erupting in a fountain from the stump where its arm used to be. For a moment it tried to regain its focus, and its remaining hand even reached for the dagger at its hip, but then it crumpled to the deck, its lifeblood pouring onto the polished wood around it.

Their leader had fallen, but the pirates were still far from beaten. Even as Cal moved quickly to aid Lok, they could hear the cries of yet more raiders as the crew of the final pirate vessel, which had finally pulled alongside, clambered onto the low central deck of the Raindancer. The fore and aft decks were clear of enemies, for the moment, but in addition to the ten newcomers, several of the pirates stunned by Cal’s color sprays were stirring, starting to shake off the lingering effects of the wand’s magic. Only mere minutes had passed since the first pirate had swung onto the Raindancer’s deck, yet the surface of the ship resembled the floor of a slaughterhouse, with the bodies of pirates and crewmembers scattered about.

“Let’s finish this,” Benzan growled, recovering his bow and drawing another long arrow.

Ruath came up beside him, and completed an invocation of the power of her goddess. As the halfling finished her spell, a small cloud of smoke erupted in the center of the lower deck amidst a group of pirates. The cloud dissipated to reveal a pair of celestial badgers, who immediately tore into the surprised raiders.

“Again with the badgers,” Benzan muttered, dropping a pirate as he clambered over the ship’s rail.

Delem joined in the defense, unleashing the power of his own wand into a knot of raiders. A half-dozen succumbed to the magical sleep, and suddenly the odds shifted dramatically again in the favor of the defenders. Six crewmembers of the Raindancer still held the raised foredeck, firing their bows into the milling pirates below and using the heavy ballista bolts as impromptu javelins. A quartet of pirates tried to rush up the narrow stair, but their charge faltered as Benzan sent an arrow into the back of the first to reach the summit, and the defenders pushed him back into his companions, sending them all down the steep steps to fall in a heap on the lower deck.

And just like that, the attack turned into a retreat, and then a rout. Several more of the dazed pirates milling around at the base of the stairs up to the aft deck fell to the missile fire from the defenders above, who included Captain Horeth, restored to consciousness again by clerical magic. Delem’s magical bolts felled several, and Benzan’s bow hummed a song of death as arrow after arrow found their lightly armored targets. Abandoning their blinded and sleeping comrades, several of the pirates retreated back to the small vessel that had been last to dock.

Benzan strode to the rail and continued firing, dropping another pirate even as they cut the ropes connecting them to the Raindancer and started pulling away. Benzan seemed possessed with a fury for vengeance as he launched arrow after arrow at the pirates, who now seemed bent only on escape. A few stragglers leapt from the Raindancer and started swimming for their departing vessel, or tried to make it to one of the other ships, but none of them made it.

Captain Horeth and the rest of his crew, backed up by the companions, swept the lower deck, subduing the few pirates who could still put up a fight and binding those still asleep from Delem’s magic. Delem and Ruath began moving among the injured crew, using their powers where needed to stabilize the seriously injured.

The escaping pirate ship had gained only a short distance when a dense mist rose up out of the waters, cloaking the retreating vessel in a concealing shroud. Apparently the pirates had at least one spellcaster left among them.

“Damn!” Benzan said, firing one last arrow into the mist.

“Let them go,” Lok said, coming to the rail and laying a restraining hand on the tiefling’s arm. The genasi had been restored somewhat by Cal’s wand of healing, but he still looked a frightful sight, his mail and shield battered and his face bloody. “Maybe they’ll spread the word that the merchantmen from the north aren’t easy pickings.”

Benzan lowered his bow reluctantly, as reason replaced the frenzy in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Lok said earnestly. The tiefling nodded, as the gaze of both warriors shifted back to the massive corpse of the dead minotaur.

The battle was won…

 

[Horacio]

Great battle, good teamwork and nice pirate retreat!
I feared some character would die...

 

[Lazybones]

Book II, Part 10

…but at a high cost. Eight of the crew of the Raindancer were dead, fresh-faced young men and women who would never again greet the coming of a new day. The tally would have been higher were it not for the rapid intervention of the clerics, whose healing powers saved more than a few from passing beyond death’s door. Many on board still bore serious wounds, and were taken below decks until the clerics recovered their powers and could treat them more fully. Cal still had his healing wand, but he was reluctant to use up its limited magic, husbanding it so long as no immediate danger threatened. Delem frowned, thinking the reaction different from the usual attitude he remembered from the gnome, but he said nothing about it to the others.

The pirates had suffered a far greater toll. They counted twenty-one dead, including the orc wizard on board the Gray Raker and the minotaur captain. Several others had fallen overboard and drowned, including apparently the half-orc barbarian that had commanded one of the smaller ships—which they discovered was named Plunder.

“An inappropriate name, in the end,” Benzan had commented. “As we were the ones that ended up with all the loot.” Even a cursory examination reinforced the tiefling’s assertion, for they found considerable treasure among the fallen pirates—particularly the leaders. The minotaur’s quiver still held sixteen of the magical acid arrows, and both his axe and breastplate were of masterwork quality, purchased no doubt with the pirate’s ill-gotten gains. The common pirates carried coins and trinkets that collectively formed a small hoard, including several items of silver or gold jewelry and even a few minor magical potions. On board the Gray Raker, however, they found the greatest treasure, at least from Cal’s point of view: the spellbook of the orc mage, and a slender device of polished black wood that he identified as a wand of magic missiles.

They took eight prisoners, who were tightly bound and kept under close watch in one of the cargo holds. They estimated that fewer than a half-dozen pirates had ultimately escaped on the last ship, which meant that they were no longer a threat, but Captain Horeth was still quite eager to leave this area behind lest more enemies stumble across them in their current weakened condition.

A brief debate followed on how to proceed. Captain Horeth wanted to chart a course back along the northern coast of Tethyr to the port city of Velen, a full day’s journey behind them. They had bypassed that fortified outpost city on their southern journey, but under the current circumstances it was the nearest safe port. They also had the two pirate vessels as prizes, which they could tow back with skeleton crews and sell for a tidy profit.

Ruath took a stern stance against the captain—she wanted to sail onward, unwilling to sacrifice even a few days for the still-unidentified errand given her by the church of Tymora. She had been stubborn in her steadfastness, but ultimately the rest of them agreed to the prudence of the captain’s judgment.

“She’s not the typical halfing,” Benzan said to his friends, as they continued the gristly work of clearing the deck of the Raindancer of the blood and bodies of the fallen combatants. With the crew depleted by the battle and lingering injuries, and with those few still fit for action assigned to the pirate ships, they were all pitching in as they crawled back along the Tethyrian coast toward Velen. Night was falling swiftly, and they had reduced their sails as they tacked against the northern wind, but Horath was reluctant to drop anchor so near to the site of the recent battle. So they crept slowly onward to the east, the densely forested reaches of the wild Velen Peninsula a dark line against the southern horizon.

“Stubborn,” Lok remarked. The halfling woman had returned below decks, to tend to those still injured, leaving them virtually alone save for the few active sailors left aboard. Captain Horath himself was at the wheel atop the aft deck, guiding his damaged vessel toward safety.

“The hin are survivors, underestimated by many because of their diminutive stature,” Cal observed, as he stripped one of the dead pirates of valuables before Lok dragged him to the rail and tossed him overboard. Their own dead they’d already granted to the sea with a little more ceremony, but in the end there was little difference in the ultimate result.

Delem gravitated to the front deck, leaving the conversation that continued behind him. He paused to free a trailing grapple that was dug into the rail, but his attention was on the slender figure silhouetted against the bow ahead of him. Pulling the barbed metal prong out with a final heave, he walked up to where Dana stood facing out into the waves.

“I’m… I’m sorry I’m not helping, I just wanted to…” Her voice was a little unsteady, and Delem suspected that she’d been crying.

“It’s all right,” was all he could think to say. “We’ve just about finished the cleanup, and we’ll need to get some rest, so we can help those sailors tomorrow.”

She looked up at him, and the glistening of her eyes confirmed his earlier guess. “I guess I haven’t been much help so far,” she said. “I suppose maybe Benzan was right about me after all.”

“You fought as bravely as any of us,” Delem said after a moment’s pause. “When that minotaur jumped up onto the deck, I… well, I was terrified. Every instinct in me told me to run—or at least keep far away from its reach—but then I saw you just run up and stick your little blade into it, and I felt humbled.”

The woman smiled—a faint one, and it quickly faded, but it was a start. “That monster almost killed me,” she said. “If I hadn’t dodged, that axe would have cut me in half.” She shuddered at the memory, and grasped onto the rail to steady herself. “Look at me,” she said. “So much for my vaunted discipline and self-control. So much for the warrior monk of Selûne, strong and fearless.”

“Accepting your limitations doesn’t mean you aren’t strong,” Delem said. “We’ve all had to face them, but the four of us have learned to work as a team, help each other. Just give yourself a little time, you’ll get used to us.”

“Thanks, Delem,” she said, touching him lightly on the arm.

“Hey, we got some slackers up here?”

Dana and Delem turned away from each other as Benzan came bounding up the stairs to the foredeck. The tiefling frowned briefly as his gaze traveled over the two of them, but was replaced quickly with a wry grin as he said, “Oops—I hope I’m not… interrupting anything?”

“Delem was just helping me with something,” Dana said, and she walked past the tiefling back to the main deck. As Delem trailed after her, Benzan said, quietly so that it wouldn’t carry, “Moving fast, I see—I didn’t think you had it in you, Delem.”

Delem met the tiefling’s gaze squarely.

“Just… just shut up, Benzan.”

 

[Horacio]

Do I smell a romantic interest?
Does a certain tiefling begins to be attracted to a certain noble girl?
Does the young fire wizard/priest feel it too?

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for the feedback, Horacio! I always enjoy seeing reply notices in my inbox at work when I'm sneaking some story-hour time. (now, where did all my other posters go? )

I've added stats for Dana and Ruath in my Rogues’ Gallery thread.

Story update later today!