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Message: <blockquote data-quote="peteyfrogboy" data-source="post: 1120770" data-attributes="member: 5677">Red Flags On The Horizon: Part 2It was three days before Nevroth was feeling well enough to leave the inn again. Parika and Rachel watched him go as they were eating their lunch."Think he'll be all right?" asked Rachel.Parika shrugged. "He's a big boy. I'm sure he won't do anything stupid.""Hm." Rachel sounded unconvinced. She chewed thoughtfully on a chunk of bread. "So those were the pirates that killed his parents?""Yep. Well, killed his father and kidnapped his mother, anyway.""That was, what, ten years ago? Most of those guys were barely out of diapers by then.""It's the same group of pirates, though. Revenge isn't always logical."Rachel thought of all the stories of pirate vengeance she had heard in her youth. None of them had happy endings. She shook her head. "It must be awful, losing your parents like that. And with no other family left to take care of you.""Family's overrated." Parika gestured toward herself with one hand. "I grew up without parents or anyone, and I turned out just fine."Rachel smiled. "More or less."***Nevroth stood in an alley between two warehouses, obscured by the afternoon shadows. His eyes were fixed on a small cutter tied up at a pier nearby. The red flag flapped in the wind, taunting him. Painted on the ship's bow was the name Severed Thread. Perhaps they preyed exclusively on cloth merchants.The ship looked smaller than he remembered, but he had only been eight years old then. Part of him wanted to storm the ship and slay them all. The other part of him, the part that had helped him survive on the streets of Cahiedra, knew that there were too many. Worse yet, the one from the bar sat at the top of the gangplank, happily juggling knives.He growled as he fingered his sword hilt. It was a cruel fate to be so close to taking the revenge he had sought for so long, yet to be unable to do anything about it. Frustrated, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.***Rachel opened one bleary eye. The sun was barely up, and someone was knocking on her door. She had one guess who. "Hold on, I'm coming," she yelled, and searched around for a pair of pants to throw on. It had been a week since Nevroth had first gone to look at the pirate ship. He'd been going crazy ever since, seeing them wandering around the docks and unable to do anything. Last night he had asked her to go talk to some of them and try to find out any useful information. That had, of course, involved a lot of drinking.She went to the door and opened it a handbreadth. "Can't this wait?" The look on Nevroth's face was answer enough. She left the door open and went to sit on her bed.Nevroth came inside and shut the door behind him. There was a chair, but he remained standing. "So? What did they say?"Rachel smiled as she recalled some of the bawdier comments the sailors had made to her. "They said a lot of things. What exactly do you want to know?""Did they remember my mother? Did they know what happened to her?""I told you," she said, shaking her head, "They wouldn't have even been on the crew back then. They're just kids, most of them. Most of the people who would be old enough to remember are on the other ships."Nevroth blinked. "Other ships?""There are two others, anchored out in the harbor. The one in port is the smallest of them.""I see," said Nevroth. His hopes of revenge seemed to dim more with every revelation. "What else?""Let's see. Well, they don't target cloth merchants. They just go after whatever's available. Pretty typical strategy. The captain of the Thread is one Moira Atropos. Ever heard of her?" Nevroth shook his head. "Me neither. Not surprising, since she's got the smallest ship in the fleet. The fleet commander is Robert Stackpole -- the name is a little familiar, but nothing I can put my finger on.""Why are they here? How long will they be in port?""Ah, right. Did you notice how many pirates are in port right now? Every three months representatives from the various major nations come to Freeport to sell Letters of Marque." Seeing Nevroth's confused expression, she explained further. "Basically, a particular nation will hire a captain to attack and plunder their enemies, giving them protection and legal status while in the sponsoring country's waters. It's more restrictive in some ways than freelance piracy, but it also gives a measure of safety in some situations and a possibility for more profit. Pirates who have Letters of Marque are called privateers." Her father would call them "gutless sellouts", but that was another matter altogether. "At any rate, they'll only be in port another week.""Okay. Thanks a lot, Rachel.""No problem." She had actually enjoyed carousing with pirates; it was like being home again.There was a knock at the door. Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Who is it?"A familiar young voice replied, "It's Julio, Miss Rachel." The boy did various odd jobs around the inn. "Have you seen Mister Nevroth?""I'm here," said the manhunter. "What is it?""There's someone downstairs looking for you."Nevroth and Rachel shared a look, but neither seemed to have any idea who it might be."Tell them I'll be right down."***Nevroth went to his room first, not wanting to meet any strangers unarmed. Rachel went and woke Parika, and the two women tagged along behind to see what was going on. Coming down the stairs, Nevroth saw a red-haired woman wearing a pirate captain's finery."So you're the one who's been drawing steel on my men and sending your friends to squeeze them for information? Just who do you think you are?"Even after ten years, even with red hair and scars, Nevroth couldn't mistake her. "I'm your son."Moira cocked her head to one side. "So you are. You seem to be doing well.""As do you. I assumed you were dead all these years. Why else would you not come back for me?""Oh, I was doing you a favor. I was never cut out to be a mother. I certainly ever wanted to be one. Not that I had any choice in the matter." She smiled. "But you turned out fine without my help, didn't you? A Manhunter, I see. That's a good career. I'm impressed. And you've got a lovely girlfriend there." Rachel and Parika looked at each other, wondering which one she was talking about. "You know, I could always use another good strong lad on my crew, if you're interested.""I don't think so." Nevroth's voice had grown cold. He was beginning to prefer the idea of his mother being dead to the reality. "What about Father? Don't you care that they killed him?""Well, I admit I was pretty upset by it at first. But I soon realized they had done me a favor. I could have spent the rest of my life shipping bolts of cloth back and forth, making babies, and being utterly miserable. Instead I got freedom and excitement, and became independently wealthy. Not a bad change, if you ask me."Rachel spoke from her seat on the stairs. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you get from being a prisoner to being a captain?""Well, it's a long story, but I can tell it short. After I got captured, the ship -- there was just the one back then -- hit a storm going through the Twelve Sisters.""The Twelve Sisters?" interjected Rachel. "When, in the winter?"Moira grinned. "Indeed. It was a fool's risk, but they had someone chasing them. At any rate, they lost the other ship but also got their sails torn to shreds. There were a lot of repairs to be made, and not enough supplies to go around. I offered to help with the sewing; it was better than being thrown overboard. Once we were all working together, I got to know the crew. A finer bunch of sea dogs I've never met."Now I'm guessing by your accent that you're from Jal Kufri." Rachel nodded. "Well, it may seem normal to you to have women on a ship's crew, but I was a naive Midland girl. The thought had never occurred to me. I was brought up to be a wife and mother and do what I was told, and that's the only life I knew of. By the time we finally got enough canvas patched together to get moving again, I was a sailor, free to do as I pleased. The rest was just time and ambition."Nevroth simply stared. "So that's it? You're a pirate now?""Well, in a week or so I'll be a privateer, if it makes you feel any better."Nevroth's sword hand twitched. Part of him wanted to put a blade through this creature that wore his mother's face. That other part of him reminded him that she could probably fillet him with the rapier at her hip.Moira sighed. "Well, I don't know what you expect from me. If you want blood money for your father, I'll gladly pay it." Her voice took on a harder edge. "If it's blood you want, you'll have to take it yourself."With that, she turned on her heel and walked out.</blockquote>

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