Opening my eyes was hard. I was never a heavy sleeper, but at that moment my body really didn't want to wake up. A flash image of Knives above me caused me to reach upwards but disappeared again as soon as I felt the sore burn of my shoulder. I attempted to roll to my side and got a face full of frozen water which did wake me up properly.
My eyes snapped open to find myself back in the cargo room where I found the shield. And as fortune would have it, the shield was still on my arm. It hurt to smile but I managed it anyway, I'd take any good news I could at that moment. The cold water surrounding me seemed to be a little less than ankle deep around me, which made me suspect a leak. I saw no good reason to stay down here for any longer so after slowly getting back to my feet I climbed the ladder once again.
Rays of light were poking through the hatch and I realised that I had been out all night and it was now morning. When I pushed the hatch open and the warm sunlight kissed my face, I almost found the will to smile. Once I was back on deck I saw the empty wreckage around me. The ship was almost completely destroyed from the top. Broken masts, puddles of blood, busted blades, a mess of debris and a thick stench of burnt wood and meat greeted me as I searched for any signs of life. Without thinking I tilted my head up to the sky, in search of Knives. But was immediately distracted by something else.
The pirate airship, which was floating above the bastion last night was now on the water, with a similar amount of damage around it's own deck, it was still fastened to our ship via the grappling ropes used to snare us. With the main masts on both ships either destroyed or heavily damaged, the two ships tied together seemed to drift aimlessly on the water. My hand tightened as I wondered how many pirates might still be on that airship.
"It was a fucking explosion," a female voice grunted alongside heavy footsteps from behind "All of my crew are dead! All of them!"
I almost didn't recognize the pirate captain's voice, it was devoid of the smooth confidence she had the night before, her words had become strained, quivering mess.
"That makes the two of us," I responded while turning to face her calmly, "But they weren't really my crew."
I don't know what I was expecting with my dreadfully coy response, but I found that my mouth acts on its own a lot, and I just have to be prepared for the consequences. On top of her shaken voice, she was missing her pirate hat and completely soaked to the cloth. In the glare of the morning sun, she looked far less intimidating and much closer to 'cute'. Her fists were balled tight and her pale blue eyes seem to to flash with rage when they reflected the light.
"I...I don't give a shit about you sailors," She said with a pointed finger, clearly missing her flintlock which was no longer at her belt. "I'll have to answer for this loss..."
I responded with a shrug.
"I'd find it a lot easier to empathise if I didn't watch your pirate mates slaughter an entire crew of stupid but innocent sailors on your orders. Also, aren't you the captain? Who do you have to answer to?"
Her face twisted hard into a scowl that did nothing to impede her roguish beauty. Clearly taken aback, she struggled to make her response snappy.
“Stupid fucking sailor, I’m...a stand in. Do I look old enough to have a ship of my own? The Hell Manta and her crew belong to Captain Ryan Forsythe!”
Despite having no interest in the politics of the seas, even though I knew that name. Lost count the amount of time I heard about the corrupt Forsythe family in a drunken rant at the Gilgamesh. Ryan was apparently the worst of a bad bunch, an ex slave trafficker from Naveroth who became a pirate when his nation became overrun by demonspawn. The noticeable fear on this girl’s voice when uttering his name was understandable.
“Hang about, why the hell is that my problem? You were trying to kill me last night, unhook your ship and piss off, I ain’t keeping you hostage.” I yelled in annoyance.
“Ha! You couldn’t hold a fart, sailor boy. But you’re right I will be taking both ships with me back to the Bishop Isles along with that pretty shield of yours. That should cover the cost of all the damage done.”
She forced a smirk with her threat but my own smile came easily. I wasn’t a man of the seas, but the signs of a bluff were pretty universal.
“If that was the case we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you would have already killed me. You don’t have your cutlass or your pistol and you’re hoping that I shit my pants and hand it over willingly. Well I got a feeling that 1-on-1 with this shield, I’d have you easily.”
She stood her ground but I heard an audible gulp before she responded.
“Well then...lose the shield, let’s go a round bare-fisted, winner takes all...sailor’s honour, right?” she said with almost complete bluster.
I looked her up and down and broke out into a brief chuckle before leaning lazily against the half stump of a mast. My shield gleamed in the light as if it were smiling along with me, I didn’t feel threatened at all.
“I told you last night, I’m not a sailor. And even if I was, you’re a fucking pirate. You don’t have any honour by definition. You might be able to best me in fisticuffs, but why should I take the risk? Besides’ we got you outnumbered.” I said calmly before up-nodding above her.
“Kyeeeehh!!” Knives cried loud and proud before swooping into view, almost eclipsing the sunlight with his mighty wingspan. I had noticed him circling us right before she demanded the shield. Like always, he showed enough restraint and patience to not engage in a fight before I gave a signal. The lady spun on her heel, and instinctively drew for a cutlass that she no longer had, faced with the creature that attacked her last night.
“The Turkey! If I had my blade with me, I’d finish carving you up nicely!” She spat.
“You don’t have your cutlass, but Knives still his talons, so if I were you I’d stop threatening him. He’s being a lot more gracious than he needs to be considering that scar you gave him”
I pointed at my feathered companions chest as I spoke. The gash had been closed up by a minor burn, no doubt from the explosion that Knives managed to keep far enough away from to survive, I was so proud of him. But the charred feathers around his otherwise majestic coat were unsightly. I had questions about this explosion and this lady was going to answer them.
“Now, I need to know why the blast was able to kill everyone on both ships, not only on deck but also whatever crew you had still inside, while me and you are still alive. And if you want Knives to continue to be gracious, I suggest you answer honestly,” I threatened.
Her chest sank inward slightly as if my words held physical weight that she was struggling to to handle. But she puffed her chest out pridefully before speaking. I did admire her resolve.
“Your friend fired the dumbest lucky shot I’ve ever seen...it hit my ship’s generator and caused a chain reaction. Jets of flame must have flash-fried everyone on deck, and the remainder of my crew would have been cooked alive when the steam doors automatically shut to contain the fire. That’s why I can’t get back inside. I’d need a Ship-Crafter to open them now.”
The thought of anyone, even pirates being cooked alive inside an interior was not a thought I was going to dwell on. But I did briefly consider the absolute fortune of Jerry being able to tag that generator along with me and her falling into the hatch at the right time to escape incineration. I glanced at Knives and he turned his head towards me as a way of acknowledging my survival.
“Well I should make you walk the plank...but I should ask your name first, miss…?”
She rolled her eyes with her fixed scowl, but before she could answer, Knives screeched at the top of his lungs into the sky. I peered up at the sky and strained my eyes to see what Knives was so excited about.
“What is it Knives? A ship?” I asked.
“Kyeeh!”
“No? Do you see land?”
“Kryeaahhh!!”
“You stupid sailor, look at the damn shadows!” she said with a frustration that matched Knives’.
“I already told you I’m not a bloody sai-”
My retort was cut short by the ‘shadows’ in the sky growing larger as they approached. I had noticed them before but assumed them to be birds. But their shapes became strange and very large as they closed in; long torsos and even longer legs with wings taller and more narrow than any bird I’ve seen (and I’ve seen them all).
“Harpies!”
“Kyeahhh!!”
When the lady yelled their name, Knives screeched in conformation. They were no doubt the ungodly winged humanoids of legend. I always counted myself lucky to never had seen one up close until that moment. Mockeries of humanity with a vaguely female shape with twisted faces that could fuel a thousand nightmares. They flew less like birds and more like bats, no grace on the air, just jerky movements of furious flapping. Between their speed and my fear induced hesitation I was barely able to dive roll out of the way of a swooping attack from the closest one.
“There’s one on the topsail!” the pirate lady warned as she made a dash towards the poop deck. “I need to find a blade!”
Though I wasn’t thrilled with the criminal who slaughtered an entire crew yesterday finding a weapon, compared to the gape-mouthed fiends that were now diving at the ships, it was the lesser of two evils. I heard Knives’ battle cry once more as he no doubt charged at the nearest Harpy with no fear. I could only hope that his wound from last night wasn’t as bad as it looked.
No sooner had I risen to my feet did I have to dive roll again, this time feeling the brush of Harpy feathers on my neck as it narrowly missed me, and the tap of its talons against my shield. I felt my stomach knot tightly as I peered upwards and noted two of the creatures circling the Bastion’s foremast, each with their sickening large pale eyes fixed on me as they angled to attack once more.
I had no idea how to fight flying monsters, but then I had very little idea how to fight in general and was still able to floor those pirates the night before. I realised at that moment that any chance of survival was going to come from this shield. Gripping it tight with it pulled close to my bosom I planted my feet beneath me and faced my assailants head on.
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“Come and ‘ave it!”
Both Harpies hissed frightfully before streaking at me talons first. Unlike the ground based attack from the pirates I was extremely exposed to an aerial attack and Harpies possessed no metal on their bodies for my shield’s magnet to draw. But I held fast as my eyes glanced down to the inside of the shield where I last found the switch for that awesome charge. Now in daylight I saw not only that switch but four others, but below labels in a language I could not decipher. It looked runic, maybe dwarven, but who knows?
I knew the ‘charging’ switch wouldn’t work with my attackers from this angle, so my finger flew to the one next to it and I hoped for the best.
HISS!!!!
First, the ‘hissing’ sound got louder, almost unbearably so. But it wasn’t from those horrific creatures, it was from my shield. Jets of hot smoke spewed from the top and and blasted the Harpies fiercely once coming into range. It was steam at a temperature I didn’t think was possible. Even with most of my face behind the shield it felt like trying to kiss a fireplace, so for the Harpies it must have felt like hell pyre.
And by the seas, they screamed accordingly.
The sound was like scraping steel being amplified through an alarm whistle, I squinted my eyes and clenched my jaw in fear of my ear drums, with just enough vision to see they two feathered scourges writhe about on the main deck, fluttering their scalded wings like freshly swatted flies on my kitchen floor. I had little time to stare at my shield in awe before one had picked itself up and flapped its way to a few feet above me while its ‘sister’ scrambled to find its feet.
I knew I needed to counter attack immediately. Luckily, despite their nasty appearance, Harpies were still birds, and I know birds have hollow bones. I bent my legs to get ready to rush into a full shield tackle, but a frightening tickle ripped it’s way up my back before my legs could move. Another Harpy!
After getting a free strike on my back, the blasted creature flapped above me, squawking psychotically with it’s gaping maw. I couldn’t see the wound on my back, but I was certain it was going to leave a hell of a mess very soon. With 3 Harpies in my vicinity, I struggled to think of a strategy. But thanks to my trusty companion, I didn’t need to.
Following an ear splitting battle cry, Knives tore across the air at low angle, crashing into the airborne harpy like divine judgment and stabbed into its back beak-first. Ignoring the pain, I followed through with my first plan and dashed at the recovering Harpy on deck feeling the cold wind in the pit of my new back wound as I ran. I slammed into my target at full speed and shoved it right into the fore-mast and heard its spine snap on impact. Grisly but satisfying.
After its nightmare face went dead I had no time to celebrate. I felt another slash to my blind-side which I’m certain overlapped with my first one. If I wasn’t so pissed off I might have been terrified. Every fibre in my body was tuned to kill and I was determined to break every one of these nasty creatures in two just like I did with their ‘sister’. Sadly, for all my piss and vinegar, the pain tore through to my nerves and I was staggered.
Spinning into a fall, I glanced up at my would-be killer. A grotesque mockery of both woman and bird in appearance with pale, gaping eyes filled with nothing but savagery and rage. My mind was ready to fight, but my body just would not react. I saw Knives in the distance talon-sparring with the remaining harpy a few feet above, in no position to take on another. The best I could do was try and lift my shield to protect my torso before this monster swooped in for the deathblow.
With my arms were like fresh noodles I was barely able to pull the shield off the floor, but the harpy had no time to take advantage of my state as she was tackled out of the air forcefully and knocked to the deck floor. I automatically checked to see if Knives had broken from his fight to save me, but he was still engaged with his opponent. It was only when I heard the grunts and curses I realised that the pirate girl had jumped into the fray (and not a moment too soon).
After a brief roll across the wet floorboards the Harpy was able to spring back into the offense, but this time against the pirate. With its disturbingly loud flapping wings and shrieks it elevated to just a head above to ‘kick’ with its talons. The pirate captain was holding a broken cutlass poorly attempting to parry the creature and getting her arms slashed up in the process.
I was almost certain she jumped in to get a blindside advantage on the immediate threat. But she probably did save my life, and despite her earlier demands, that still meant something to me. The blood seeping from back soaked into my shirt and the sticky texture made it feel like I was ‘peeling’ myself off the floor. A very unpleasant experience on top of the pain.
Ignoring how much blood I might have been losing I pulled myself to my feet and brought my shield up to chest level. I was so shaky that a strong gust could have re-floored me. But faced the Harpy and the pirate anyway, and moved my finger to the ‘charge’ switch once again. The air whipped against my face as I sailed through the air, completely taken off my feet by pure force. There was none of my own strength behind my shield, I was literally travelling on the strange, steam force inside this device.
The physical rush was becoming addictive, I loved bursting forward with this thing.
Despite my hasty angle I was still able to make full contact force with the bird monster, smashing into legs and plucking it out of it’s hover. Harpies maintained altitude in the ugliest way; flapping furiously, thrashing side to side to side erratically. They just about dangled in the air despite Gravity’s stern drag. So when my flying shield tackle sent it convoluting through the air like a poorly designed kite, It looked graceful by comparison.
“By Yenneth’s breath, you can manipulate it’s direction?” asked the pirate as I soared past her, possibly saving her arm from being shredded.
Sadly, my noodled legs had no muscle memory for landing, and I plummeted quite ridiculously into a stack of debris near the lip of the poop deck, where the airship was fastened. Because of the fortunate landing on my shield, nothing was damaged apart from my pride. I knew the fight wasn’t over and I scrambled to my feet, catching my second wind.
I lifted my head in time to see my tackle victim slam painfully into the mizzenmast, clearly breaking something on impact as it flopped around uselessly in its attempt to recover. Feeling the cool breeze tickle my blood-wet back, I was looking forward to beating the hell out of that harpie with my new golden protector. But the pirate beat me to it.
Like a crimson bolt of judgement she descended from somewhere out of sight directly on to the broken harpy, plunging the few inches of a broken cutlass into its chest. The monster’s already massive eyes went wider as it made it’s death knell with a pierced lung. A small amount of pale blood jetted upward and all signs of the harpie’s life were gone.
“Good fuckin’ riddance,” I said to the pirate, before spitting on the corpse of the harpie.
“Don’t thank me yet sailor, your turkey is getting carved up worse than I was,” she commented flatly, pointing to the duel in the sky.
She was right, the sole remaining harpy was making life hell for Knives. While he was one of the largest most majestic fly creatures I had ever seen, he was still just a bird, not a human sized monster. The harpy’s manic air movement was stifling Knives attack options. Without the element of surprise, he was limited to ineffective pecking and scratching. I reached upwards and called for Knives but I didn’t know how to help him, and then she shoved me aside.
“What the fuck you doing? There is still one left!” I protested.
She scowled at me and reached down to the spot she pushed me from. “I know, and you’re in the way, look underneath you, fool.”
I almost sicked up when I saw it: The heavily bloated corpse of my ship’s captain. His body was partially visible underneath and sparse pile of broken wood that I created upon my crash, and I figured the weight of the debris must have kept him on deck. The fact he looked so water-logged made me wonder if a storm wave had been raging all night and washed everyone else away. But while I was pondering, the pirate was plundering, rummaging through the late captain’s jacket, not at all bothered by his horrifically cadaverous appearance.
“Didn’t you pirate enough last night? Leave the old man be!” I ordered, feeling a little bit sorry for the captain’s memory. I hated every minute working underneath him, but that wasn’t really his fault. Watching a criminal of the sea rummage through his person like a cut purse pilfering a drunk in an Alvion backstreet made me want to at least *try* and be honorable.
She made a ‘pfft’ sound, and continued to dig into his clothes. I felt I had reached my quota of honorable actions and quickly put the captain out of my mind to focus on Knives who’s situation wasn’t improving. I looked at my shield again and wondered if I could attempt another aerial tackle (one that wouldn’t overshoot me into the ocean). Just as I had started to estimate an approach angle, my eardrums were punched by the sound of a small explosion; and right before my eyes the harpie’s head was replaced by a cloud of red mist.
“Holy fucking hell!” my voice cracked out a little higher than I’d have liked, but I was genuinely shocked. Knives shrieked in chorus with me while fluttering away from his headless opponent immediately.
I turned to see her grinning wildly, holding up the literal smoking gun: the captain’s dual action flintlock. This was no mere popgun, this weapon was a work of art. Nearly twice as large as a regular flintlock, it looked like a hand cannon for anyone holding it. The trigger guard was bright gold, which matched gorgeously against the deep mahagony handle and copper barrel. The hammer was further back than a regular design and hand a ‘double chamber’ to hold two lead shots instead of one. The side panel was engraved ‘The Amy’, named after the captain’s late daughter. I’m not even a gun enthusiast, but the desgin always left me in awe.
Despite her bleeding arm, the pirate was grinning from ear to ear, clearly impressed with the shot she just made, which was not an easy one at her distance. Putting aside the fact she is a murderous criminal of the seas, her shot saved my Direhawk’s life. After seeing knives circle back to perch on the mizzen sail, I offered my free hand to shake hers.
“Thanks...that was a good shot.”
Her icy blues fixed on me through her wet crimson hair, and her coy grin grew slightly wider.
“Your welcome, sea-dog. Now, about that shield…” she purred slowly before training the flintlock on me.
My hand gripped the shield handle tighter automatically. I wasn’t sure why, but I had become very attached to this item, and I had no intention of giving it up.
“You really think you got another shot left?” I asked casually.
“It’s dual action. Dual means two, genius,” she snarked as she pulled back the hammer. “Now I’m not going to ask again, hand it over, and I won’t even make you walk the plank.
“That gun is as empty as these ships, the captain wouldn’t have died until he let off at least one shot, and he sure as hell didn’t reload in the state he’s in now.”
I motioned to the corpse before stepping forward, and her smugness melted away instantly.
“Not another step, sea-dog! I’ll blow your dick off!”
“Are complimenting me, or your aim?”
With a sharp inhale her face twisted into a concerned gasp and that moment was all I needed. Putting my painful back injury out of my head, I reacted like a spring, pushing up from my ankles to back-shield her shooting arm in one motion. Watching the beautiful weapon fly from her hands into the reflexive talons of Knives, her face returned to its familiar frustration. It was almost cute.
“You lowly shit-scrubber, you won’t have that shield for long! You have no idea of it’s value!” she cursed, left only with a bleeding arm to point at me.”
“This trinket saved my life four times now, I’d say I have a pretty good idea of it’s value,” I said as I walked even closer, with Knives flapping slowly behind me. “Now I think it’s your turn to explain why I shouldn’t kill you, Pirate.
Her eyes widened slightly before settling into a defiant squint, and she folded her arms tightly.
“Do whatever you want, I go back empty handed and I’m dead anyway. Forsythe isn’t known to be particularly understanding or forgiving. I’m just pissed I’m meeting my end to a nobody sailor and big turkey. I deserve to die in a grand battle against the Moriarty crew or something.”
I noticed her injured arm was beginning to quiver, which may have been why she folded it. Even in the face of death she was showing a lot of heart, which I found difficult not to respect.
“I’m not a damn sailor if that makes you feel any better. I was drafted onto this ship by New Alvion, as was two thirds of my district.”
Arm still shaking, she tilted her head curiously.
“Unwashed commoners get screwed by fat cat sky politics. Even if I gave a shit It wouldn’t be news,” she said with a shrug. “You're still a nobody, just a land-based one.”
Her words were spiteful and pissy but some of it struck true for me. Even if I could go back to town, I'd still only be flipping notes across neighborhoods to debt collectors and unfaithful husbands. I mean it's much better than sailing, but on what grounds could I say I was ‘ a somebody’? I was only ‘King Casper’ at the pub, and only because Angelica endorsed it.
“Well?!” she griped, breaking my thoughts. “ You gonna finish this or what?”
I wasn’t going to kill her, I didn’t have it in me. Something about that gave me comfort, being out here may have robbed me of my freedom, but not my humanity.
“I don't even know who you are, Lady. I didn’t ask for any of this,” I said a little more passively.
“Are you serious?”
Her expression was shock mixed with annoyance.
“What? Yes. I told you I was drafted and-”
“No! I mean do you seriously not know who I am?” she interrupted, bringing the pointing finger back out.
“I've never seen you before in my goddamn life,” I replied, growing in confusion.
She stomped her foot indignantly before rummaging through her own jacket pocket hurriedly. I instinctively raised my shield in anticipation.
“Relax, pleb. You know I’m not armed,” she said dismissively before pulling out a damp scroll of paper. “You commoners can read, right? Open it.”
I took a step back, watching her carefully, “You open it.”
With minor annoyance she unravelled the paper and held it up to me. It was a wanted poster. The face drawing was terrible, not helped at all by the water damage and running ink, but I could just about recognize it to be her. In large block writing, just above the hefty reward for 60,000 royals was her name:
Jacqueline Rubinette Babineaux
“You’re Ruby-Jack,” I said with mild surprise. “I've heard some stories, you mostly fight other pirate crews, I’ve heard a few fisherman talk about it, they call you-”
“The Red Menace,” she stated proudly, while tucking her wanted poster back. “Also the ‘Stick-Up Witch’ but that doesn't sound as good.”
She straightened her back and stood proudly. It was like for that moment she forgot she was unarmed and possibly facing death. She ran a hand through her hair and puffed her chest proudly. And with her physique, it wasn’t the pose to look at.
“I don’t get it, if you're this big, bad famous battle pirate then why are you running Forsythes ships?”
“You dumb dog I…Ach!”
Ruby was cut short by a pained gasp as she clutched her bleeding arm. It had become as almost read as her arm and was leaking badly. Her confident face turned into a sickly droop almost immediately. She dropped to one knee and cursed.
It looked really bad and I had no intention of watching her bleed out mid conversation.
“You got any medical wraps on your ship?” I asked urgently.
“G-good luck getting to them...even if they weren’t burned in the explosion, they are locked behind the blast doors, no ones getting in...and my crew never got out.”
I winced as my imagination conjured up the image of dozens of men trapped as they burned to death in an engine room. They may have been pirates, but nobody deserves to go like that.
A felt a frightful tickle as fresh drops of blood creeped down my back. Along with a frightened squawk from Knives it reminded me that Ruby-Jack wasnt the only who needed patching up.
“Down this hatch, where you first found me, there is a bunch of supplies down here. I didnt check for bandages, but there must be something,” I said as I stumbled to the trap door, feeling the effects of the recent bloodloss.
Ruby nodded weakly as she took laboured steps toward the entrance, gulping as much air as possible with every breath. With my best stern face, I stood in front of her as she reached to open it.
“If we survive this, I don’t want anymore of your shit, the shield stays with me,” I declared with knives shrieking once to concur.
Her eyes hung heavy as she looked me up and down and spat beside me. “Forsythe will kill us both sooner or later...but I’m gonna die fighting, not leaking on some Alvion cargo tub. it’s a deal, pleb. I’ll keep the peace.”
I squinted my eyes with skepticism before opening the hatch.
“My name is Casper Kingsley, and as far as I’m concerned, this is my ship now,” I said with a proud smirk.