-[Act 3 * Part 3]-
Razazil made his way through the hull of his ship. Along the way he witnessed the crew scrambling to respond to the sudden attack. Powder kegs were being cracked open and gunpowder distributed at a reckless pace. Swords could be heard rasping against scabbards as the pirates made ready for combat. Damage parties moved into position with buckets of water, ready to fight back any fires that might spread and threaten the wooden vessel during combat.
When the Admiral emerged from the bowels of his ship the firefight was already well underway. The ship’s crew rushed about the deck as they made ready the cannons and took their assigned posts. Snipers clambered up the rigging to get a better view of the city below while other sailors gathered around their assigned officers. The shore parties loaded their guns and checked their equipment as they made ready to join the fighting in the harbor streets.
Even as more and more wounded sailors were being brought onboard, their fearless comrades jumped the ship to take their place in the surrounding buildings. They rushed down the two cobblestone streets that connected the harbor to the rest of the port towards the sounds of battle. Their task was to try and repel the attackers before they could threaten the ships. As they fought to slow the advance of the enemy, improvised barricades were being set up around the plaza that stood between the ships and the harbor buildings. Should they be driven back from their forward positions they could make their last stand below the barrels of their cannons.
Before the arrival of the Admiral the defense of the harbor had been directed by the ship’s executive officer. Razazil’s second in command—also known as the XO—organized the marines that were set to reinforce the garrison in the city. The two-headed ogre was a burly creature, but clearly had a pair of quick minds about him as he snapped from one critical task to the next without having to pause.
“Barker, Talos!” one of the heads called up the marines as they sprung up form below the deck. “Get your squads onto the second defensive line! Be ready to receive our sailors as they fall back under enemy fire! They can’t hold the first line for much longer!”
The marines acknowledged XO’s order and set off with their respective units towards the city. Unlike the common sailors, they carried some modicum of protection. They wore cuirasses—metal armor that covered their chests in a single piece of thick plate—and had helmets made of sheet steel with open faces for better visibility. Their design was such that the heavy armor protected only the vital areas of their bodies. Flintlock muskets were their main weapons, but most carried a few throwing bombs in a sash that was slung over their shoulder. Each wore a saber strapped to one side of the belt and a bayonet to the other. They fixed the bayonets under the muzzles of their guns once they had disembarked the ship and made ready for close quarters combat in the narrow confines of the city streets beyond.
“I want all top guns pointed down the streets,” the other head of the XO called out to the gunnery crews prepping their cannons. “Lower deck—load grapeshot! We will soon have enemies in the plaza!”
One of ogre’s heads finally noted Razazil’s arrival. “Admiral, Sir!” He tapped on the shoulder of his opposite number to get the attention of the other head.
The two-headed ogre lumbered over to the Admiral. “Your orders?” the XO asked, both heads speaking in unison.
“Carry on as you were,” Razazil answered. “I have yet to determine our course of action. In the meanwhile, get more of our men into the fight. We can’t let them overrun us.”
The ogre nodded and went back to directing the crew.
Razazil surveyed the frantic actions of his sailors and carefully weighed his options. While the old Admiral pondered his next move the captains in command of his other ships had finally arrived. They gathered around him to deliver their reports and to await his decision.
Among the pack of hardened sea wolves a lone feline captain stuck out like sore thumb. She shared the concerned expressions of her fellow captains, but the look she gave the dragon-kin Admiral expressed more than just a sense of duty to her commander. Since the battle had begun, she had already managed to get herself covered in gunpowder. The black stains on her pale face struck a contrast to the hazel brown color of her short hair. The demi-human’s cat ears still twitched in response to the commotion around her, but she kept her attention fixed on her Admiral.
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Razazil used the opportunity to gather some intelligence on his enemy before deciding on whether to fight for the port or to cut his losses and get his ships out of harm’s way.
“Who’s attacking us?” Razazil asked.
“Red Hands,” one captain answered. “They sounded their war drums just as they stormed our first line of defense. We cut down as many of the damned orcs as we could, but their numbers seem to have no end.”
“Iron Sentinels are advancing on our right,” another captain said. “My lookouts reported sighting their war banners just as the Restless was blown out of the sky. After that we lost contact with the outpost.”
“Two different crews?” Razazil asked to make sure.
Both officers nodded with confidence.
Razazil once more turned to his execute officer. “Any sign of their ships?” the Admiral asked. “Is this a two-pronged attack, or are we facing just their disembarked crews?”
“No ships have been sighted,” the XO answered. “But they are pushing hard, so I’m guessing that all of their men are in on the attack. There might be some mercenary support thrown in as well. They hit out outposts way too hard. The men barely got the alarm out.”
Razazil nodded. He then closed his eyes and considered the situation for a moment.
“Have the shore parties slowly pull back towards the plaza under covering fire,” the Admiral ordered. “Don’t give up ground for nothing, but don’t let any of our holdouts get surrounded. Fall back to straighten the lines only!
“Understood?” The Admiral threw his gaze around to see if anyone had a question to ask. “Then move out!”
“You heard the Admiral,” the XO barked. “Move your feet, you maggots!”
The officers set off to organize their crews as per the Admiral’s directions. The feline captain threw one last concerned look at the old dragon-kin Admiral before she too departed.
“What’s your assessment, Raz?” the XO asked. The two-headed ogre wiped the sweat from his brows as he surveyed the efforts of his subordinates scurrying about the deck.
Now that the all the captains were gone the old Admiral let his true state of mind surface. He was seething with rage. “They want to push us out of Port Malus,” Razazil answered. “The bloody bastards must be after my piece of the port.”
“We won’t let them!” the XO answered with conviction. He smashed his giant fists together. “We will crush them like the dumb bastards they are! No one messes with the Sea Dragon and lives to tell the tale!”
Razazil looked to the steady stream of wounded sailors being brought onboard. “We might not have a choice,” he said. Some of the medics carrying the stretchers looked to be wounded themselves, but they pushed through the pain as they worked to save their comrades.
“Admiral, Sir!” an orc sailor addressed his commander. “The priestess is here.”
The green skinned sailor had brought with him a small human girl, no older than six. She was being escorted by an arcane construct that looked to be covered in animal furs. The oddly cuddly looking arcane sentinel kept close to the girl, his burning gaze scanning the scene for any threats to his ward.
Razazil dismissed the sailor. The Admiral then kneeled before the little girl. “I will need your help today,” he said in as soft a voice as he could muster. “Will you help me? Will you use your special power?”
The child nodded. She had a distant, dispassionate look, but otherwise appeared healthy.
“Thank you,” Razazil said and gently patted the girl on the head. “I will give you some candy later, if you work hard.”
The girl nodded again. She then took the hand of the fur coated sentinel and the two of them followed the trail of wounded sailors down below the deck.
“Signal the other ships,” Razazil ordered, “Let the captains know that they can leave the port at their discretion. We will hold onto this bit of land to the last, but I don’t intend to lose ships over it.”
“Do we call back our scouts?” the XO asked. “We could use the extra manpower to—”
“No,” Razazil answered. “As much as it pains me, their mission remains critical. Until one of them breaks silence to tell me that our guest has been located, I will not risk calling them back.”
The XO nodded and set off to organize the crew. He called up runners and sent them off to the other captains to tell them of the Admiral’s orders to abandon the port in case that their ships came under a direct threat.
Razazil walked up to the side of his ship and peered out into the city beyond. The fighting had already set fires to several buildings. A firestorm would soon consume a large part of the harbor, as his crews could hardly find the time to bring up water to douse the flames for as long as they remained under enemy fire. The black smoke from the burning stores and warehouses already covered a large part of the port and made observation of the ongoing fighting increasingly difficult.
The old Admiral twirled his whiskers. “Damn it, Basil,” he cursed under his breath. “Why did it have to happen today? Why does fate always align me with your house at the worst of times?”
He shook his head. “Maybe you really are cursed…”