Avira

Avira sat in a circle with some of the crew. The vanishing sun gleamed off Shen's spear as it leaned on his shoulder. The smell of rum hung in the air, nearly overpowering the stench of salt and sweat that was so pervasive on the Lorelai.

One of the crew members stood up. Gulliver, the frigatebird harpy. The red sack at his throat inflated when he saw Avira, but it shrank before he made any remarks. He gave a cough and held up a cup. “So, my jolly crew, we're gathered here for one reason. A storm is coming, one that we may not survive. As usual, we're here to get piss drunk and swap stories!”

A cheer rose and the men raised their cups in unison. Shen wasn't cheering, but he did raise his cup. “Aye,” he spoke with authority but kept a familiarity that didn't hurt the mood, “long and traveled are we, and booze is the best partner for a story.”

That brought another cheer. Gulliver quieted them by extending a wing. “Traveled, we are. But we've told our stories hundreds of times already. However!” he raised a wing into the air dramatically, his rum spilling from his cup and splashing on the ground. “We have a guest! A lovely woman who surely has stories aplenty!” His red sack inflated as he gestured to Avira, who rolled her eyes. She could tell that was a terrible attempt at a mating ritual.

“Ye must have stories, being a tribal,” a Driman spoke.

“Aye, ye don't see many of those outside their woods,” another said, a Kathan.

Shen cleared his throat. “Sorry, Avira. I invited you, I should have known they'd grill you for stories.”

Avira was a little uncomfortable being the focal point, but the fact that it was about fighting helped. “Let me think,” she thought to herself, “well... I don't think I've told anyone how I got this,” she rubbed the scar that ran down her cheek.

“That doesn't look like a wound from a blade,” one of the crew commented.

“You'd be right. This story is set in my tenth year. My first time hunting.”

“That typical for a first hunt?” spoke Anne, who was idly swabbing the decks nearby.

Avira glanced over, not realizing she was there before, “Yeah, about. Some parents take their kid earlier, some later, but most get their first taste at ten.”

“What was your prey, lass?” someone asked.

“In time. We need to establish the setting.” Avira grinned. “It was deep in Wilds land. My hunt was special; most of my kin do it with other hybrids in their tribe. My father took me on a hunt with a wolf pack.”

“The animal, not the hybrid?” Gulliver asked.

Avira nodded. “My father's always been... attached to wolves.” Admitting that he was a Titan Wolf was probably too much info. They were already eyeing her doubtfully. “Wolves hunt in a very smart way. There's pack tactics, of course. Then you have to be able to sniff out the weakest of a group of animals, or be able to track a lone beast. Then you chase them somewhere that's to your advantage and use the environment against them.”

“Wild animals are smart enough for that?” Shen asked.

“Well, it doesn't take that much thought to consider the weaknesses of your enemy versus your own strengths,”

Avira earned a smirk from Shen. “You're right. Continue.”

“Lastly, wolves are able to instinctively know their role in the hunt and what they need to do. This one's very impressive to observe in person. They don't even have to communicate with each other, they just know.”

“Right, right, wolves are cool. The point?” A crewmember tried to hurry her along.

“The point is, I was able to observe and learn this firsthand. Our target was a moose. Huge fucker, big as my dad. And trust me, that's saying something,” she spread her arms to amplify how large it was, “It was tired and had a leg injury. Not sure what from, it probably fell somewhere. Even injured though, it was intimidating. The pack stared it down, trying to scare it into running. My dad was able to spook it off, and that started the chase.”

“You must be fast to be able to keep up with them,” someone said.

“I'm fast enough now, but my dad was carrying me then,” Avira clarified, “branches whacked me a good few times. I had sap all over my face and leaves stuck in my hair by the time the moose was cornered. We had it backed to a river. A moose's hoofed feet doesn't agree with the rocky, gravel-filled ground of a riverbed. I hopped on the ground to watch the wolves get to work. Biting its hinds, going for the throat. Still, this beast just would. Not. Die.”

“These moose sound like terrifying creatures,” a driman commented.

A man who'd been quiet till now spoke up. Looked like he was from the northern continent of L'Ries. “Trust me, you don't want to meet one. Saw one charge a fully armored knight, caved his armor completely in and walked away with barely a scratch.”

That got everyone more interested in the story. “Alright, so the wolves are circling, taking their chances every time they see an opportunity and cycling out whenever a pack member gets tired or injured. A few get stomped into the ground or tossed by its antlers. Suddenly I swear I see an opening as it turns its head. I'm about to take my little knife out and charge.”

“Bad move, that,” someone quipped.

“Correct. I'm met with another wolf being flung at me, hitting me hard and launching me into the river. Wouldn't be a big deal, except that the currents too fast and I'm going down a waterfall.”

“Shit, what'd you do?” she didn't see who asked that, but it didn't matter.

“I used the wolf as a cushion as I went over the cliff. Washed upriver coughing and tired. My body was bruised, a bleeding cut across my arm, and I needed somewhere to hide until my dad got back.”

“What happened to the wolf?” Anne asked.

“It was limp and dead by then. Gored by the moose. It continued down the river. Now, I knew my dad would find me. He's always been remarkably good at that. The problem is that I was alone and weak. And as I stood up on the shore, I heard the telltale howl of a coyote pair.”

“Shit. That's gotta be scary for a little girl,” Shen spoke.

“My heart was pounding. I scrambled to the treeline then climbed a tree to hide. The howling came closer. They caught my scent, I knew it by now. They were close when I heard it. The branch I so hastily scrambled up began to splinter under my weight.”

She paused for dramatic effect, smirking at how invested she'd got the group.

“That's when I got this,” she rubbed the scar that ran down her cheek, “I fell hard, my face catching on the jagged splinter left when the branch broke. Gouged a very nasty wound. I screamed as I hit the ground. Which brought the coyotes right to me.”

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She sighed, remembering the pure terror she felt that night. The impossible odds before her, it looked like certain death. “They were on me in a moment. One sunk its teeth into my leg. I had hide pants, so it didn't go deep, but I could still feel its fangs piercing my flesh. The other lunged for my throat. Let me say, it's a hard thing to do, fending a stronger animal off you while another is pulling and biting on you. I'll tell you, it almost got me. Thankfully, I remembered that I still had my knife on me. I probably wouldn't be here today if my dad didn't teach me so well with the knife.” She patted her side, where her dagger was. “It nearly snaps its jaws around my throat, but I get it first. Dagger in the neck. It pulls back and collapses. Good, but I've still got the one on my leg.”

“Get the knife on them too?” Shen asked.

“That's stuck in the other one. And it's trying to drag me away while it makes ribbons of my pants. I can feel its teeth making purchase, sinking deep into me. I scream. I get angry. I kick it off with my other foot for just a moment and tackle it. it's snapping at me, clawing, whatever it can do. Bites down hard on my arm. I'm past the pain at this point, I just want this shit dead. Luckily there was a rock next to me to do the trick. I think you lot can guess the rest.”

Everyone was silent. Eventually Anne, who had approached them and was listening intently, spoke, “wow,” was all she said.

“I'll say. That's some badass shit right there!” another crew member exclaimed.

“The start of a long career of killing, it seems,” Shen said, “you must have been crying in your fathers arms after.”

“Mm,” Avira muttered.

“Well, it's certainly intense,” Anne said, then looked around.

The crew started to notice it too, a few getting up. “Wind's stopped,” Gulliver said.

Shen looked into the sky for a moment. “Get the crew in order. We're about to have company,” he was up and about in a split second, spear on his shoulder. He scanned the horizon intently.

Thunder cracked in the air and it started to downpour the instant after he said that. Avira jumped from the thunder and stood up. “If it's a fight, I'm joining.”

“I can't let you do that,” Shen told her,”if you could though, get the doctor. Godart.”

“Fine,” she put plenty of sass into that, but hurried below deck without much fuss. At least the fight would interrupt the awkward part of her story.

The fact that they thought she was scared after the coyote attack didn't quite match. She didn't remember much after bringing that rock down on the little vermin's head. The next thing in her memory was her dad hurrying her to the nearest tribe for first aid. One thing was clear in her mind, though. She could picture clearly the bewildered and frightened looks on the healers faces as they saw little Avira, covered in blood and viscera, a wide-eyed grin on her face.

#

Godart

Godart gasped out as Avira burst into the room. The rest of the ship behind her was busy, a horn sounding up top. The Lorelai had grown rocky in the last few minutes, so she assumed it was a storm.

“Godart!” Avira said, looking a little tense, “they need you topdeck. Battle's coming. Won't let me fight though...”

“Oh,” Godart said. They must need her to tend to the wounded when the time comes, “I could use your help in that case. If that's okay. You too, Mareth.”

“Of course, my dear.” Mareth smiled.

“Whatever you need, as long as it's fun,” Avira shrugged.

Godart gathered her supplies and shoved it in her rucksack, hurrying off with the others in tow. She hurried up the stairs, a sharp wave rocking the boat and making her stumble as she reached the top. She nearly fell back down the stairs, but Avira caught her casually.

“Careful,” Avira said, working to keep her balance, “thank the Spirits my sea legs have settled in.”

“Furl the sails! Batten the hatches! Come on, you layabouts, before our company arrives!” Gulliver was directing the now swarming crew, the winds and waves growing chaotic. A shanty rose up as they sang in rhythm with their work.

“Godart!” Reeves approached the three. “I'm giving you access to my quarters, it's got the most open space. Take the wounded there and treat them if you're willing.”

“Will do!” she replied confidently, even if the howl of the wind nearly drowned her out.

Reeves patted her shoulder firmly and addressed the others. “I'll not allow you to fight, but you can help her if you wish.”

“Right,” Avira replied, looking around. She could hear something on the horizon. A murmur, quiet but somehow still audible through the shouts of the crew and the howling winds. Magic?

“To the south!” a voice yelled, a nobleman falling from the sky with a blue-feathered beakless harpy helping him land softly.

“Hawke, who's this?” Reeves asked, swiveling his head to that direction. There was a faint glow from that part of the ocean.

“Kalani,” Hawke replied, “but that's not important now. The enemy ship's approaching fast from the south. Couldn't tell much about it, but it's around our size.”

“Very well, now assist Godart. Where's my Spirit Master!?” he stomped off to tend to business, commanding the crew.

“Kalani?” Avira eyed the harpy, who was glaring at the lot of them.

“None of your concern, tribal,” Kalani said curtly.

“You wanna repeat that, bluntbeak?” Avira glared back at her.

“Calm down, both of you! We're to help Godart here, let's get to work and get out of the way.” Hawke put a hand on Kalani's back and pulled her away.

Godart and crew hurried to the captain's quarters, where Bram the dryid was. He looked at Godart expectantly, or at least that was the emotion she thought she saw. “Lead,” he spoke in his gravelly voice.

“Um...” Godart had to take a second to calm down, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed by the expectations placed on her. She stood there, outside the door to the captain's quarters, looking at the group before her.

Avira stepped up . Godart could tell that she was feeling very anxious as well, but she was bundling it in. Avira placed a hand on her shoulder and looked up into the lenses of her mask. “This is your specialty. You can do this.”

Godart met her eyes, the green cat eyes almost glowing in the dim light. She took a breath, and straightened her posture. “Alright! We need to make space in the captain's quarters, so move everything out of the way. We need as much space to treat people as we can. Avira, Hawke, Bram, you can handle that for now.”

She walked into the room with the group, helping them move all the captain's knickknacks out of the way and scooting his desk to the wall. She handed Mareth her rucksack. “I want you to help me set up for treatment. Any medicine you have in your supplies would be appreciated.

“Right, I'll have those here in a few moments,” Mareth said.

“Me and Kalani are wind elementals, so you know,” Hawke said to Godart.

“Perfect. You two and Avira can retrieve wounded for us,” Godart eyed Avira, who returned a thumbs up.

She could hear yelling from outside now. The entire ship shook, rocking the crew and nearly knocking Godart off her feet. A glow came from the westward windows, the whispering from earlier turned into a chorus. It cut into her soul, telltale sign of a magical incantation. Blasts began ringing out, splintering of wood and war cries rising in return.

“Least it's not a siren,” Kalani commented, “we'll see to it that as few die as possible on our side.”

Godart watched them hurry out of the room and turned to Bram, “try not to go straight to amputation, please.”

“Old dogs,” he replied.