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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
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& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/
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Leona ‘Foxy’ Vale
I heard a rumor
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“Blimey!”
Leona winced, something burning between her legs and looked to find her feathered hat, the red bandana worn loosely on her neck and covering her breasts.
Sort of.
She turned to look under the inn’s bed, though ‘Good Siren’ was more a tavern, since no place in Eikenport made coin on people sleeping, unless you went all in and called it a brothel. Found nothing there and pushed with a hand to stand up, the large buckle on her belt clanking at the edge of the bed and ‘Blackmane’ Quint woke up and stared at her tits all serious.
Leona returned his stare. “They are tits Quint. Ye didn’t think I was a man right?” she shushed mostly jesting. “Say, ye haven’t seen me hat perchance?”
“In the barrel,” Quint replied his eyes glued on Leona’s bouncy bits.
“Ah.”
“Yer leaving?” the quartermaster of ‘the Pillager’ asked her.
Leona winked at the naked man. “Will ye miss me?” she asked and the muscled pirate shrugged his shoulders.
“Reckon I be seein’ ye soon enough.”
“Watch it ther’ Quint, yer warm words might win me over,” Leona teased and turned around to go find her hat.
“Wasn’t me intention Captain,” the man replied truthfully and she shook her head, afore frowning. “Something the matter?” Quint asked, seeing her stalling over the barrel.
“It’ll be gainful to wash meself,” she explained and fished her hat out of the dirty water.
“In what manner?”
“I have a rash?”
“I meant gainful,” Quint elucidated not very concerned.
“Ahm, health reasons?”
“Got fined once for that,” Quint replied nodding with his head, his smarts not as impressive as his cock. “In Cediorum. Strick moth’rfuckers. I quit the meat business after that.”
Whether his decision to leave the field saved lives or not, given his current profession, still undecided.
But not looking good.
Leona smacked her lips, the morning dragging dull without a touch of alcohol in her. “I’ll see to find a bath barrel, if ye don’t mind.”
“What’s wit this one?”
“It has things livin’ in it?”
“Ye don’t say.”
“I just did Quint,” Leona hissed and squeezed the foul water out of her poor hat.
“Ye know,” the man said and moved to get out of the bed. “I heard a rumor, speaking of Cediorum.”
Leona looked about for something to drink, found an empty bottle on the nightstand, a spider climbing out of it with shaky legs and two goblets with nothing inside but the smell of cheap rum. “Can we talk about it another time?”
“Sure Leo,” Quint replied. “Better be careful going down. Van Fleet might come visit.”
“Why?”
“Has a meetin’ of sorts.”
“I thought ‘Bald’ Burton paid him off for the venue,” Leona said standing at the door of their first floor room and quickly wearing her red shirt.
“Sent the coin to his broth’r. He needed it, so Fleet got a share of the inn in exchange for money he owned him.”
“Trickster ripped him off again, it seems,” she noticed. Trickster Burton was ‘Bald’s brother and was rumored to sail the Khan’s Gulf in the other end of the world.
Allegedly.
“I ain’t gettin’ involved,” Quint admitted and got up, his naked physique making up for any other deficiency the man had. “Foolin’ around wit ye is a big enough risk.”
“Hah,” Leona guffawed and cracked the door open to look at the first semi-floor corridor and catch a glimpse of the bar underneath it. “A bit late for that ‘Blackmane’.”
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Leona stepped out on the narrow corridor, straightened herself out, then slotted her moist hat under an armpit and made to walk towards the staircase, when a tavern maid generous at the waist and enormous in the bosom department rushed by her carrying a large container of hot water. She paused huffing and puffing in front of the room next to the one Quint had rented and pushed the door open to enter inside.
Ah, Leona thought with a grimace. Abrakas provide ready deliverance from filth ‘n microbes.
It’s a bloody miracle.
The heavy maid got out and closed the door behind her, paused to glare at the foxy grinning Leona and bumped her out of the way. The pirate captain caught herself, putting a hand on the wall for purchase and called after the rushing down the stairs maid.
“You’ll soon run out of corridor ma’am. Tis but a forewarning!”
Right.
Leona glanced at the closed door thoughtfully. Checked to see no one was looking up from the still empty bar and then put an ear on the door. She frowned comically, then knocked rather feebly, but got no answer.
“Mmm,” she murmured and used two fingers to turn the handle carefully, the tip of her tongue protruding out of the side of her mouth. “Is anyone there? Speak now, or forever yer silence hold,” she muttered cracking the door open. Leona used the front of her boot to push it inside a bit and cast a quick glance at the clean interior.
There was the large bronze bathtub, this room much bigger than her own and even freshly painted. Leona mused on it for a moment listening for sounds, but hearing nothing smacked her lips and went inside.
She closed the door behind her, the click not too loud, but apparently loud enough for the Issir woman in the bathtub to hear it and rise her head perturbed.
Shiver me rotting timbers, Leona thought equally stunned at the chocolate skin beauty staring at her shocked.
“Jewels for eyes,” she blurted out genuinely moved at the striking female, adding being as she was well-versed in pricey loot. “Jadeite to be precise.”
“Huh? Who are you?” the young woman snapped unhappy and made to stand, bur remembered she was naked and sat back down forcing a lot of frothy water to splash on the floor. Whatever ‘little’ Leona managed to gaze of her physique made the night she’d spent with Quint suddenly appear pedestrian.
“Ahm,” Leona muttered at a loss for words. What was an Issir doing in Eikenport? Was she a working girl? The possibility of Burton coming up with the coin to hire such a quality wench ludicrous, especially with tight-fisted Honest Fleet owing half the joint.
“Are you deaf?” the well-spoken beauty said angrily and pointed at the door. “Get out.”
“Would if I could,” Leona admitted and walked towards her barrel on shaky legs. “But that ship has sailed.”
“What?”
“See now, me unexpected alluring Siren of the docks, I wanted to cleanse this body. So I sailed be searching for the manner and the how,” Leona blurted out, trying to find her game and failing. “Inopportunely I stumbled upon yer barrel, which stands as a dilemma for both of us.”
“Are you drunk?” the Issir grunted glaring at her, her hands covering her mouth-watering ripe mounts. Gods above and below! “What’s this drivel?”
“Haven’t had a drop of spirits since morning,” Leona admitted sadly and put her hands on the lip of the bathtub, dropping her hat. “It’s a crime really.”
“It’s still morning.”
“Tis sadly true,” Leona agreed and scrunched her nose. “Shall I dip into the water whilst we order somethin’ to quench our thirst?”
“Have you lost your wits?” the woman yelled and reached for a robe next to her bathtub, a lot of dark flesh escaping her other arm. “I’m getting out!”
Good grief, Leona thought taken aback and started working on the buttons of her shirt, while the woman tried to put her robes on splashing water everywhere.
“What are you doing?” she hissed glancing back at her and Leona paused unsure.
“Sheddin’ the garbs to join ye in bed?” she chanced with a toothy grin.
The shock on the young Issir’s face turning to horror.
“GET OUT PERVERT!” she blasted in fake anger.
Leona could see through these fake protests like a pro.
“I know the scheme yer workin’ on Jade Eyes,” she shushed.
“This is the final warning,” the woman snarled clasping the wet robes in front of her, the floor under their feet a mess. “Get out of my room, else I’ll call the guards!”
Haha, oh gods this is pure comedy.
“You won’t,” Leona teased her and she blinked.
“I mean it.”
“No ye don’t. Ther’ be no guards coming,” Leona said and made a step forward to come near her flushed face. “I can tell when a wench is playin’ hard to get—”
The heavy slap caught her low cheek and much of her jaw. It snapped her head back, her ear ringing and the power behind it surprising for such a fine package. Leona twisted around on her heels and opened an arm to keep the balance, the other holding her burning face.
“I must admit,” she murmured dazed. “Wasn’t expectin’ dis much passion?”
“Guards!” the woman yelled glaring at her.
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“Haha,” Leona guffawed with a grimace, her left cheek swollen. “Yer goin’ all in—”
The Issir woman stepped forward the robes splitting and showing a fit thigh and then she kicked her hard. Leona turned not expecting it, caught a dripping foot on her hip and went flying towards the door, her boots slipping on the wet floor.
“Argh,” she mumbled hurt. “I believe ther’ be a mix-up—”
“GUARDS!”
“Blimey! There are no guards—” Leona retorted in frustration, but the door snapped open much to her bewilderment, caught her between the shoulder blades and dropped her on her knees.
The pain blinding.
“Miss Anne?” a man asked worried and started coughing at the end of it.
“Bronchitis Sam?” Leona groaned trying to get up from the wet floor.
“Captain Vale?” Sam replied and then added with a frown. “Curse ye, what did ye do?”
What?
“I’ve wandered into the wrong room apparently,” Leona murmured.
“She made advances on me!” The Issir ratted her out, rather unprofesionaly.
“Ye piece of degenerate—” Sam growled.
“Now wait a fuckin’ minute me lovelies,” Leona grunted. “First I don’t know this Anne and secondly, alright I have three points to make—”
“SHE’S LYING!” Anne blasted her furious. “Shame on you!”
Eh. I’ve nothin’ to be ashamed about.
“What’s going on?” Someone said from outside, gruff voice full of righteous indignation. “What is all this tumult?”
Fuck’s sake, Leona thought, when Van Fleet appeared at the open door, with ‘Bald’ Burton right behind him.
“You!” Van Fleet snarled, never one to lay the past to rest.
“Caught her rapin’ Miss Anne,” Sam ‘the lyin’ rat’ reported and Van Fleet ogled his eyes as if he just heard his mother had died burned to a stake.
“That the sister ye talked to me about?”
Wait what?
“Aye Captain.”
“PETE!” Van Fleet yelled turning his head back, just as both Anne and Leona protested the pirate’s words.
“I found her naked!” Leona cried out. “She provoked me! Twas a trap!”
“You bitch! Nothing happened!” Anne lashed out at her response. “That harlot is lying!”
Huh?
Oh come on now.
“Yer dairies are showin’ Jade Eyes,” she reminded the naughty Issir.
Anne glared at her and Leona shrugged her shoulders just as Pete entered the room. Big black lad, rough and hairy with gnarly fangs protruding down his sinister mouth. Eyes yellow and right mean.
Abrakas toes, covered in dirty seaweed.
“Get her boy,” Van Fleet ordered his pet direwolf and pointed an accusing finger on a stunned Leona.
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“Parley!” Leona declared staring at the growling wolf and then took advantage of the pause to stoop and grab her hat from the floor. She twisted around and dashed towards the window, darn thing only half open, the large direwolf jumping after her.
Van Fleet wouldn’t parley with her if he could avoid it and in his tavern he could.
Leona jumped to reach the lip of the window, missed it for a bit, boots slithering in the sludge, bumped her knees on it and went out of the wooden shades head first. She heard jaws snapping behind her, a tooth grazing her arse and ruining her pants and then she tumbled in the air, arms and legs flaying desperately.
“AAAAARG!” She yelled mightily going down two floors and tearing through the leather cover of a huge chargrill, landing right in the hot embers. Leona jumped up, feeling broken but also burning –so pausing to cry about it wasn’t an option- then dived to the side hugging a roasted lamb, or something. She landed on the hard ground, people screaming between curses and with her clothes smoking.
Or on fire.
Leona groaned and stumbled away, covered in grease, hot ashes and soot. She paused to put a piece of burned meat in her mouth, saw the large shadow of the direwolf landing six meters away and turned to dash into the stunned crowd in full panic.
She run and chewed on the spicy meat at the same time, eating the dog afore the dog’s uncle ate her sort of speak.
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The Gallant Dogs guard at the gates saw her dashing at full sprint towards them and reached for a sword raising the alarm. Leona huffing and puffing, tongue burnt from the darn roast, face sweaty and flushed, kept pumping her arms up and down to keep the rhythm going. Leona knew that if she but paused to rest, there was no way she could start running again for at least a week.
Her legs burning, she started yelling as she approached, about an hour or thereabouts into the chase through the city. The darn direwolf kept following her, despite the many distractions she had thrown at him, be it food, cutlery, people –including children- and a goat.
“CLOSE THE GATES!” she bellowed gnarling her teeth from the effort.
“What?” A sergeant asked with a frown.
“Should I fire sire?” An archer asked.
“CLOSE THE GATES,” Leona screamed reaching them. “There’s a wolf coming!”
“A… what now?”
“Isn’t that Vale?” Another asked.
“Hey!” The Sergeant barked, as she dashed past him. “Bob run after her lad! Could be a fuckin’ imposter!”
“Kinda know her Sarge,” the soldier protested.
“Ye mean intimately?” The sergeant barked and Leona turned her head around to check on the helmed soldier, his voice familiar. Almost crashed on to Stiles, who was coming out of his headquarters to see what all the upheaval was about.
The former pirate pulled away and Leona put the brakes on, managing to stop several meters later and then collapse onto her shot knees.
“Leo?” Stiles queried approaching her. Leona gulped down large breaths greedily, her lungs burning and feeling completely exhausted.
“Nine Lives,” she coughed, her mouth slow moving and gluey, white froth at the sides of her lips. “Need a drink mate, think I’m dying.”
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“There’s water in the trough,” Norec, the dwarf, offered eyeing her disappointed. “You should cover yourself woman.”
“How about something solider?” Leona croaked covering the girls that had spilled out of her loose unbuttoned shirt.
“I can throw a piece of hard soap in,” the dwarf deadpanned. “Make it thicker and liven the taste.”
Stiles cleared his throat, but said nothing. The ‘former’ pirate reached for a pocket inside his expensive coat. He got a flask out and tossed it to her. Leona smelled it after uncorking it.
“It’s rum,” Stiles rustled, his sole eye taunting.
“Mmm,” Leona murmured gulping down the strong liquid, her eyes watering. “Thanks!”
“Take a fuckin’ breath for all gods sake!” Stiles blasted her a minute of heavy drinking later.
“I’m fine,” she croaked, licking her lips. “Whoa tis strong stuff.”
“It is,” Stiles retorted. “Care to explain?”
Eh, not really, Leona thought and glanced at the scowling Norec. The sturdy dwarf’s brown eyes boring into her soul.
Fuck’s is yer problem mate?
“I found meself mixed up wit a big dog,” Leona said finding her familiar drawl again now that she’d murdered Stiles rum.
“Care to explain,” Stiles repeated patiently. “Why you’re not on yer ship?”
“Ahm, I fail to see how that’s any of yer business,” she burred and tried to get up, wincing in pain. “I found meself hurt.”
Norec gave her his short arm to help her up. “I’m a big girl,” Leona warned him afore taking it. The dwarf snorted and pulled her up easily, the power behind his calloused hands otherworldly.
“Wow,” Leona gasped and doubled over her knees, still not able to stand on her own. “Ye got anything else under that beard?” she teased him half-joking half-serious.
“Yer not woman enough to handle a mature Folk,” Norec grunted and Stiles started cackling finding it very amusing, afore shaking his head and assuming a serious expression.
“Aren’t ye supposed to load up on supplies for… the big guy?”
“Pfft, tis alright. Have me best people on it.”
“Is it close to finishing then? The Chief’s wife needs to leave before the month is over.”
“Isn’t she pregnant? Are we sure the kid is his?”
“Don’t repeat this near her. Anyways she had a little girl. Eh, I guess he’ll have to deal wit it.”
“Aha, listen I must protest here again on this whole plan of using the Marquette to transport stuff about. It’s a pirate ship.”
“It’s the Chief’s ship,” Stiles reminded her.
“I haven’t wholeheartedly agreed on that. I believe the term is under duress,” she countered and brushed her white locks off her sweaty face.
“Leo we could always find another captain,” Stiles warned her. “Of course ye will need to return the coin I gave ye back in that case.”
“That would be nigh impossible,” Leona replied and stood up towering over the dwarf. Not woman enough my arse. “Seein’ as I’ve used up the capital on me various expenses, I can’t recall at this instant.”
“Whores?” Stiles chanced not amused.
“I’ll have ye informed, I’ve met a classy lady,” Leona informed him.
“Ye did? Wher’ will that be?” Stiles queried. “Because ye only frequent brothels.”
“An Issir,” Leona told him and touched her arse, found a hole in her ruined pants and the bleeding cut. She stared at the flask still in her hand, sighed pensively and poured some on her hand, then proceeded to clean the area with it wincing. Stiles growled at the end of his wits and she continued. “I call her Jade Eyes, but her name is Anne.”
Stiles stood back and Norec who was privy to more information apparently snorted.
“You bed her ye say?” he asked with a grunt.
“Well, rumors might circulate on the fact, but I haven’t,” Leona admitted and Norec this time burst out laughing hard. “But had I been given the chance to finish the story about the dog—”
“Good grief, enough already! I can’t stand yer voice!” Stiles snapped losing it, turned on his heels and walked away.
“That wasn’t very polite,” Leona murmured.
“It’s a good act, what you have,” Norec told her. “But eventually you have to let people in woman.”
“I have a name dwarf.”
“So do I,” Norec deadpanned and tossed her an iron key.
“What’s this?”
“A room to rest at the barracks,” the dwarf retorted. “Use the baths to clean up them cuts, avoid the soldiers. Use a lot of soap.”
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Leona stumbled out of the barracks after sunset, rested, cleaned out and bandaged. She walked towards the stables housing the horses to ‘get’ herself one, in order to return to the docks. She heard noise coming from a building and approached to have a peek inside.
“Captain Vale,” an Issir greeted her. He was wearing a black cloak, body lost inside a shadow. Leona paused unsure and stared at the familiar face. “Name’s Nigel Grim,” the thin wiry man introduced himself and frowned seeing her caramel skin turn a pale white. “I heard you got into trouble.”
Leona blinked and glanced about her. The door to what apparently was a tavern that had sprouted inside Garth’s District seemingly too far away.
“What would that trouble be?” She croaked, a shiver rattling her bones.
“Many versions of the story are circulating,” her old crew member’s brother replied, his face blank. You’ll not see me broth’r coming, he had told her in bed months back. “Something about a tavern keeper’s daughter and a dog,” the older Grim added, his voice barely audible.
Ah.
“Twas a close call,” she managed to say, her face hurting in the attempt to smile. The man nodded and moved out of the shadows. He was taller than her and much older than his brother that she’d killed some time back to save a girl she liked. Leona thought of Jinx and her late father, the gloomy thoughts not helping her.
Everyone moves out on ye eventually, she thought. Better not dwell on it.
“Some things go one way,” Grim said. “Others don’t. Have ye heard the rumor?”
“There’s another one?”
“There’s a big ship being built in Cediorum,” Grim replied, his voice rather cultured, but his aura dangerous.
“Almost ten per year at ‘em dockyards,” Leona said, trying to clear her throat and failing.
“It’s a big ship this. Bigger than a galleon. Hundred oars at least,” Grim continued with a nod. “With extra stands for archers and a heavy detail to board it, but standing on the deck.”
“With oars? Why would it need them?”
“A safeguard, if there’s no wind. Keep it going,” came Grim’s response.
“Not a transport then?” Leona asked now interested.
“Not for people,” Nigel Grim replied and stared at the summer night sky afore adding. “Or timber.”
“Why tell me this?” She asked him out of character.
“You’re half Issir at least,” Grim said and smiled thinly. “Call me sentimental, but I trust our kind for this type of job.”
Hmm.
“I’m not sure we’re in the same business mister Grim.”
“Yet, I think we are,” he countered. “I overheard your conversation. We usually keep it in the ranks, but for this job, if I’m right,” Grim paused and stared at her conspiratorially. “We are going to need a fast ship and a great captain.”
You are going to need a small army as well, Leona thought. What’s the cargo? Is this a trap?
“Think about it, make your journey and come back,” Grim said seeing her thinking it through.
“Sure,” Leona murmured. Grim nodded and turned to walk away, but paused as if something was bothering him and glanced her way.
“You looked like someone walked over your grave earlier,” he told her casually.
Dodge.
Turn rudder at full speed.
“You’re a spooky guy,” Leona replied with a gasp, her heart fluttering. I ain’t leaving the ship without my sword another time, she promised herself. “Lurking in ‘em shadows, speaking in whispers.”
“It’s the job,” Grim said with a sigh. “Makes us not trusting people. Or a pretty girl’s words.”