Caleb looked over to the Hashbang and invoked Hornblower Harangue.

“All right, we’re here!” Caleb announced. “What are your orders, Commodore?”

“Lir’s beard! You’ve got all the Corsair Skills, don’t you, lad?” Zeddicus said, as he heard Caleb’s voice in his ear. “And it looks like Vayne has some powers too. You came out of bloody nowhere!”

“That he does,” Caleb agreed. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“All right, here’s my orders: I want your ship just aft of my steerboard side. That way the Hashbang’s broadsides can protect you while you keep away or intercept any attempts to board her.”

Caleb nodded, instantly glad that the massive ship had a twenty-four gun punch. That was double the firepower of his own vessel.

“We can do that,” he acknowledged. “What about the star forts at the entrance of the harbor? We’re drawing so close, we’ve got to be within their range by now.”

Caleb heard the Pirate King sigh.

“Danu be praised, they’re no threat anymore. The Myrkur lost a bunch of ships and men taking them, but we spiked the guns and blew up the emplacements.”

“Got it. Once we’re past that and into the harbor, we’ll have room to maneuver.”

The shadows of the cliffs protecting the harbor mouth swept along the decks of the Infidus and the other ships of the Brethren. They passed by the forts at point-blank range before the land on either side drew back, revealing the vast harbor within. The peals of a distant bell, doubtless the Myrkur’s alarm, sounded faintly in the air.

A vast spread of dark water the color of denim lay ahead, packed with a vast array of enemy vessels. At least two-thirds of the forty-odd ships were fast sloops or ketches, laid out along the flanks of the massive cultist fleet. These moved to attack, drawing out the shape of the Myrkur formation into a southward-facing crescent.

A core of a half-dozen heavier ships with Delacroix’s Stone Angel at its center remained directly ahead in the distance. Their steerboard cannon faced the still-smoking Boruta Port, while their larboard guns stood ready to deliver a broadside to any approaching foe.

“We’ll be making use of this room,” Zeddicus declared. “The weather gauge is with us, so Nance’s brig Novice and Otachi’s Sentret are going hard to larboard, to roll up that Myrkur flank. Sasha Lucroy will run interference steerboard with a squadron based around the Zebu. You’re with me, we’ll be going up the center for the big prize. The Stone Angel’s going to be protected by at least one heavy brig, so I want you to use your weather magic to split up the–”

Vayne’s demonic voice cut Zeddicus off.

“Ye both have a need for senseless palaver,” the undead pirate captain gritted. “Were it not for the lure of salvation, I would take both of ye down to the damned realms of Myr. We attack. Now.”

With that, Vayne’s voice vanished into the ether like so much smoke.

Zeddicus cleared his throat. “Did…did you know that he could do that?”

“I know as much about our new ally as you,” Caleb admitted. “Looks like he’s a man of his word, though. Look up ahead!”

Vayne’s squadron of eldritch pirate ships moved to the fore, with the undead pirate captain’s Burning Star leading the charge. The rest of the squadron trimmed their ghostly sails smartly, forging ahead of the wind to challenge the Myrkur. A skin-rippling scream rose from the skeletal crews aboard their ships, echoing across the waters.

As if in silent commentary, Caleb’s Quest Window updated once more.

Expert Adventurer's-Level Quest:

Vanquish the Myrkur fleet in battle alongside the Pirate Brethren of Boruta and the undead Pirate Captain Halton Vayne. STATUS: ONGOING.

“Lir and Danu my witness,” Zeddicus breathed. “He’s pulling a Leroy Jenkins, isn’t he?”

“A who?” Caleb asked.

“Never mind that now, it’s a gamer’s reference. Forget all I just said about battle plans, we’re just going in,” the Pirate King said flatly. “With luck, we’ll end up better than Leroy’s companions.”

“What happened to them?” Caleb demanded.

He could hear the shrug in Zeddicus’ voice.

“They died, lad. They died.”

Caleb cut the connection as Zeddicus’ flagship unfurled all its sails and lunged forward.

“Keep our ship just aft of the Hashbang’s steerboard broadside,” Caleb instructed Donal. “We’ll take advantage of the shelter provided by those guns for now. I can do the most damage with my magic that way, too.”

“Aye, keepin’ us in the golden spot!” Donal acknowledged, with a slight turn of the wheel.

Caleb put his spyglass to his eye, focusing it on the advancing ghost pirate squadron. To his surprise, the arrowhead-shaped formation split up, with several of the smaller ships heading for the flanks. Their unearthly shrieks vanished in a resounding BOOM! as the entire northern horizon lit up with Myrkur cannon fire.

Vayne’s ships were magical, but not without substance. The Burning Star shuddered as entire chunks of semi-rotten wood went flying. The undead pirates returned a more ragged barrage, tearing holes in sails and hulls in return.

To their credit, the Myrkur held their formation. A second barrage hit Vayne’s squadron all along the line. Man-sized holes appeared in the undead pirates’ sails, and several of the smaller ships began to founder.

But they reached their destination.

Just before they slipped below the waves, those smaller ships collided with their intended targets. The ragged, worm-eaten wooden hulls crumpled into matchsticks as they slammed into the Myrkur. But the skeletal figures boarded the Myrkur vessels before their own ships went down. The undead shrugged off the volleys of rifle and pistol fire that greeted them.

At least a third of the cultists on each boarded ship simply ran for their lives, screaming in terror and diving into the harbor. The remaining ones fought as best they could, hacking desperately with their cutlasses before being gutted and then torn apart.

Caleb shuddered to watch. He’d fought these creatures before. Not only were the near-impossible to kill, they never showed fear. And they never gave up.

“Those are the creatures that thou hadst rated so lightly?” Shaw demanded, from the railing above. “Methinks they would have been worthy foes for one such as I!”

“Be glad they’re friends right now,” Caleb replied. “And they’re coming in handy.”

Vayne’s flagship scraped up against the outermost vessel in Delacroix’s core squadron. It was a stout brig, with a huge complement of Guardsmen. Yet the undead crew swarmed aboard anyway. Captain Vayne himself boarded the ship, hacking his way through the terrified Myrkur, swinging his sword like a scythe.

Off to larboard, the Myrkur’s flank had been thrown momentarily into disarray by Vayne’s squadron. The various sloops tried to reform and aim their cannons as Nance’s Novice and Otachi’s Sentret drew close. The Brethren pirates charged in, committed to their course. They’d run a deadly gauntlet of cannon fire to get close enough.

Caleb raised his arms, summoning his power.

All right. Time to pull out all the stops.

He began by using Increase Ambient Humidity, Call Up Mist and Thicken Clouds to darken and concentrate the clouds off to larboard. Now that he had the right ambient weather conditions, he considered using Call Up Storm, but dismissed it out of hand.

That takes up a hell of a lot of my energy, and I can’t control it after it’s summoned.

Instead, he scrolled through his spells until he came up with the one he wanted.

Hail Generation: This spell generates a moderate to severe hail event within an area of up to 100x100 feet for a Level 16 Caster, increasing by 30x30 feet for each level gained thereafter.

He cast the spell, imagining a zipper opening on the backside of the dark cloudbank he’d conjured. It worked just as he’d hoped. With a thin, whistling sound, the clouds opened up just ahead of the approaching Brethren ships.

Marble-sized hail pelted down amongst the Myrkur not already engaged with the undead, stinging the sailors and making them take cover. Caleb threw an XP Boost on top of the spell. In response, the hail turned to the size of irregularly-shaped golf balls. Men fell unconscious at their posts as they were knocked out, while the heavy hailstones tore sailcloth to shreds.

Caleb gave the sleeting storm a final shove, pushing it just outside the boundary of the battle. Nance and Otachi’s ships pounced on the reeling, out-of-control Myrkur ships. They severed the entire western hook of the crescent-shaped formation, wrecking it and sending several Myrkur vessels down to Lir’s Blue Cellar.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“The Myrkur are closing on us to steerboard!” Sienna called up from on deck. She pointed towards where a quartet of sloops had avoided the ships from Vayne’s squadron, circling around to close in from the eastern hook of the crescent.

“Ready the steerboard cannon!” he called back. “Stand ready to repel boarding parties!”

Tavia let out a triumphant neigh from where she stood on deck.

“Kirren stands with us, Captain! We are ready!”

The Myrkur sloops curled in towards them, throwing up massive whitecaps at their bows. Their decks were crammed with Sea Vipers and Guardsmen. Each man brandished pistols or swords, ready to do battle.

Then Caleb heard the faint order to Fire! come from up ahead, on board the Hashbang. The bigger, taller vessel’s cannons loomed almost overhead from flagship’s higher deck. He called down to his crew once more.

“Ahoy on deck! Cover your ears!”

He followed his own suggestion by clapping his hands to the sides of his head.

The shockwave of the Hashbang’s dozen heavy guns shook the Infidus from stem to stern. Caleb felt as much as heard the rippling KA-BOOM! as it rolled past, seemingly right over his head. The weight of shot screamed through the air, tearing through wood and men aboard the two closest Myrkur sloops.

The first foundered, rolling sharply as the sea rushed into the holes blown into her hull. Then she plunged bow-first below the waves. The second fell astern, her mast blown away, deck covered in shredded sailcloth and dead or dying Myrkur sailors.

Two more sloops surged forward to take their place. One pursued the Zebu, which remained ahead of the Hashbang on the steerboard side. Caleb could just make out the ivory coat and colorful sashes worn by the Pirate Lord Sasha Lucroy as the man shouted orders. A broadside of six guns tore through the pursuing Myrkur ship, turning it away.

The final sloop came up from their steerboard aft quarter. He made out the name Myr’s Knave along the side as she ran out four cannon to larboard. The Myrkur captain struggled to put on enough sail to come alongside. Caleb tried using Increase Ambient Humidity, but there wasn’t enough moisture in the air left to make things truly damp.

Instead, he used Squall Burst and Wind Shift to slam the ship away from the Infidus. The Knave heeled sharply to steerboard, her cannons firing noisily into the air without hitting anything. Shaw leaned over the railing on the afterdeck, taunting the cultists.

“Thou art a bunch of wastrels!” the drake shouted. “Thy aim is useless and what courage thou hast lies below thy keel!”

But the mass of Guardsmen aboard the sloop had a quick-thinking Komtur. The man shouted at his rifle squad to open fire on the afterdeck. At this close distance, they had a good chance of hitting Shaw or others on deck.

Instantly, Caleb seized on the one spell he could think of for this situation.

He invoked Microburst Deflection just as the Myrkur’s rifle squads opened fire. A sudden downdraft disrupted the air between the two ships. Most of the balls fired fell into the ocean with a hiss. Two more cut the air above Caleb’s head and tore small, ragged holes in the sails.

Shaw let out a roar. “Have at thee, then!”

Before Caleb could countermand Shaw’s blood lust, the drake leapt across the narrow gap. Yet Shaw had caught the crew aboard the Knave just as they were struggling to reload. The sounds of screams and the roars of a triumphant griffin came from astern.

“Captain!” Donal shouted. “Up ahead! We’re comin’ up against their big ships now!”

Sure enough, Vayne’s flagship had pulled free from its last boarding action, leaving a burning and sinking brig in its wake. The crippled vessel tried to get back into the fight, until a broadside from the Hashbang’s larboard guns sent it to the bottom.

Vayne’s Burning Star, its already half-shredded sails now missing multiple spars, had lost some of her speed. The cursed schooner ended up on Zeddicus’ larboard quarter as they pushed deeper into the core of the Myrkur fleet. Lucroy’s Zebu and Caleb’s Infidus remained tight on the Hashbang’s steerboard side. Together, the four ships gave as good as they got as the remaining Myrkur vessels coiled in around them.

Caleb’s world now turned into a maelstrom of solid noise. Cannons boomed on three sides as the Myrkur tried desperately to pull back and protect their flagship. The Infidus’ guns barely registered as Lucas Whelan ordered broadside after broadside against yet more sloops that threatened to flank them.

The air filled with smoke, both from the cannon fire and the burning ships that now swirled and drifted past them. Caleb coughed, trying not to retch as the charnel smells of spilt blood, burning hemp line, and gunpowder threatened to choke his senses. More Myrkur vessels closed in on them, peppering them with small arms fire and raking them with cannon.

Lucas Whelan, in his exposed position amidships, was the first to die. A lucky shot from a passing Myrkur sloop blew a cannonball-sized hole in his chest. He fell and was dragged below.

Two women on the sail teams were pincushioned by shrapnel, one tumbling with a scream over the railing. Another shot hit below the second cannon on the steerboard side, flipping the gun out of its carriage and crushing one of the crew with a bone-crunching clang.

Donal cried out and swayed at the wheel as he took a rifle shot in his shoulder. Caleb spotted the rifle team in the fighting top of a Myrkur ship that swirled dangerously close to them. He drew the first of his three pistols and fired back, though his shot missed.

Just as he prepared to pull another pistol from its belt, Shaw dove in from the heavens, slashing with his razor-sharp talons. What fell from the fighting top to the Myrkur vessel’s deck wouldn’t live long. The drake circled back and landed on the afterdeck as the enemy ship fell behind.

“The Knave’s crew shan’t be returning to battle, methinks,” the griffin chuckled, through his blood-stained beak. “What wouldst thou have me do next?”

Caleb coughed as he spoke. “We can’t see, there’s too much smoke in the air! Get above this, tell me where the Stone Angel is!”

“Aye, that I shall do, Captain!” The drake spread his wings and took off.

“Ahoy on deck!” Caleb shouted. “I need someone to man the helm!”

“I can still steer!” Donal insisted, even as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder by clapping a hand over the wound.

“You’re heading down to see Doc Harper. That’s an order,” Caleb said, as Owen Garrett took over the helm. Donal bristled a moment, but he saw the look in Caleb’s eyes. He muttered a Yezzir and went below.

Down on deck, Sienna shouted barely-heard orders for sand to be strewn on deck. The blood from the dead and wounded now flowed across the planks, making the sail and gun crews slip as they tried to work. She took over Whelan’s position, helping the remaining gun teams to wrestle the upended cannon back into place.

Caleb heard a thump as Shaw landed back atop the afterdeck.

“‘Tis an arrant piece of knavery ahead!” the drake spat. “Mayhap they have another dragon, for the ship that approaches ‘pon thy steerboard side bears the name Executioner, and it spouts fire!”

“Spouts fire? What in all of Avalon–”

The sound of a hissing tea kettle came from up ahead. It was followed by a WHUMP! of an explosion. The Zebu, still on their steerboard bow quarter, erupted in a fountain of flames. The horrific crackle of a massive bonfire came next, followed by the screams of crewmen as they dove en masse into the sea, their clothes smoldering.

The flames reached the Zebu’s magazine. The armed merchantman vanished with a KABOOM! as her heavy timbers turned to kindling in the blink of an eye. Splinters, sea spray, and burning wreckage rained down upon the Infidus, wounding several more of Caleb’s crew.

A gigantic brig-of-war emerged from the smoky cloud that had been the Zebu. Caleb couldn’t help but stare. She was easily the largest ship Caleb had seen on Avalon’s seas, save for the Stone Angel and the Hashbang.

The Executioner only bore a total of twelve guns. But her prow was outfitted in foot-long scales of polished gray steel. A syringe-like nozzle projected ten feet further forward. Vapor puffed from the end of that nozzle as the teakettle hissing sound started up again.

That’s their fire-spouter, Caleb realized, with a sick shock. I’ve got to hand it to Delacroix, he’s figured out how to use something like Greek Fire and put it to use in this world.

“Captain, your orders?” Garrett said, his voice wavering. “We need to change course if we’re to avoid that thing!”

“You’ll hold our course until I order it otherwise!” Caleb snapped, before he called down below. “Ahoy the steerboard gun crews! Target the bow of that brig, fire upon my command!”

“Captain!” Sienna called back. “Isn’t that the worst spot to target? They’re using steel plates for armor!”

“Those are your orders!” Caleb shouted back.

None of my Weathermancy spells are going to work on that thing, he realized. But what about my Craft with Iron spells? Maybe Extend Crack or some other variant of that?

He flipped through his spells in his mind until he found what he was looking for.

Cymatic Vibration: This spell allows the caster to set up vibration in metallic objects within visual or magical sight.

A quick check of his magical energy showed that he was below half-power. But he’d risk it.

Caleb pointed his index finger at the Executioner’s bow. The big ship drove on, the hiss from its nozzle growing ever louder. As soon as it hit the right pressure, a jet of whatever flammable substance it carried would burn the Infidus to the waterline.

He invoked Cymatic Vibration. The metal plates encasing the flame-thrower’s structure began to vibrate. The Myrkur Guardsmen stationed up by bow saw the movement. They panicked and ran just as the metal scales gave way, falling to the deck with a clatter.

The innards of the flame-throwing machine, sacks of some vast animal’s skin pumped full of liquid, sat exposed on the forward deck.

“Fire the larboard battery!” Caleb shouted.

Sienna brought down her hand, signaling the cannon crews to fire. The boom! of the guns gave way to a crump! of spattering liquid. Clear fluid gushed from the exposed mechanism on the bow, kindling into flame as it ran aft down the entire length of the ship.

The Hashbang then sealed the ship’s fate with a full-on broadside. The Executioner’s hull crumpled, letting water in so that she foundered. Caleb spared her just a glance as the big ship came to rest on her side, both drowning and burning her crew at the same time.

Suddenly, the smoke cleared. The entire Myrkur fleet lay behind them. Sinking and burning ships littered the entire view aft, with only a few still fighting as the Brethren boarded them.

Ahead lay the Stone Angel. She fired her deadly broadside, blowing chunks off the Burning Star, smashing Hashbang’s bowsprit, then blowing an entire spar of hers loose to land in the sea.

Shouts of alarm came from forward as one cannon shot took off the top third of the Infidus’ mizzenmast. The mass of timber fell, narrowly missing where Sienna stood amidships, before tumbling off the side. Two more shots racked the ship. One tore holes in three separate sails before tumbling aft.

The second took off Owen Garrett’s head. Caleb fell to one side as he felt the heat of the round pass by, then the wet warmth of his crewman’s blood. The cannon shot blew the door off his great cabin with a bang! that rattled the teeth in his head.

He forced himself to get up. Garrett’s body lay still next to the ship’s wheel, but by now he felt concussed and numb. And there was no time to mourn.

“Daffodil!” he cried, as he spotted movement from within his cabin. “Are you all right?”

The little dragon poked her head out from the wreckage.

“I’m fine,” she said. “But this isn’t very fun!”

“Battles never are, little one.” He pointed back towards the interior. “Whatever happens, I don’t want you hurt. Get under the bed, it’ll be the safest place.”

“Okay,” she said. “But Breena bites me if I try to take up too much room!”

Caleb turned away from the alloy dragon as she vanished again. The mass of the Myrkur flagship loomed up ahead, their cannons now too high to do more than tear sails and rip their rigging. The side of the big ship’s carved angel figurehead seemed to glance sideways at them

Though bone-weary already, he knew what had to come next.

We made it this far, he thought fiercely. We’re sure as hell not stopping for anything now!

Caleb grabbed the ship’s wheel. The handles were warm and slick from Garrett’s blood, but he forced himself to ignore it for now. He called down once more below.

“Ahoy the boarding parties!”

Tavia and Ferris Pender’s voices answered him.

“Aye, Captain!”

“Yezzir, we stand ready!”

“Prepare to board the Stone Angel to larboard!” Caleb shouted. “Ahoy the rest of the crew!”

Everyone else looked up, surprised. Caleb felt the warm glow of Piratical Flair and Moment of Awe as he spoke.

“This is the end voyage for the Infidus! We triumph over the Myrkur, or they’ll board us in return! Anyone who can still stand and hold a sword or pistol, this is the moment to fight for the Arrenmar and the Roshannon!”

A positively feral roar came from below.

Caleb spun the wheel so that the Infidus heeled around to steerboard. Her larboard side came to rest with a crunch against the Stone Angel’s hull.