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Red Wishes Black Ink
65. [Uicha] From Below

65. [Uicha] From Below

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Uicha de Orak, Wildcard of the 5th Renown, representing The Forgotten One, surveying the competition

Akoni de Emasyn, Captain of the Dartmyth, and his crew, keeping to a safe distance

Curse de Mou, Ocean Master of the 9th Renown, the Flamingo Islands, know what’s down there

The merchant gellezza Mastermind and an unnamed vessel carrying the Gen’bi

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10 Trollove, 61 AW

Aboard the Dartmyth, Central Sea

140 days until the next Granting

“Marvelous, isn't it?” Akoni asked, rubbing his hands together. “That hot feeling in your gut, little brother? That's your islander blood telling you to get the grappling hooks because it's time to go robbing.”

Peering through the spyglass, Uicha would've sworn that what he felt was more like awe. Besides the fortress casinos of Noyega, Uicha had seen few buildings that rivaled the merchant gellezza for grandeur. The Mastermind looked more like a floating castle than a ship. Four decks of equal size were stacked atop a v-shaped hull that disappeared deep beneath the water. Above, a collection of bright-colored sails were presently tied down, while a dozen Gadgeteer water-wheels sat dormant at the boat's rear. At a guess, Uicha figured the Mastermind had five times the crew of the Dartmyth—many of them lined the railings of the side visible to Uicha, peering out across the water much like he did. The massive gellezza had dropped anchor, and the Dartmyth had done the same.

“It's enormous,” Uicha said.

“They build them bigger and dumber every year,” Akoni replied. “Cruising up and down their sea lanes. Pretty soon, they will forget what it means to actually sail.”

Uicha wondered at that. After all, the Dartmyth mostly sailed on its own. Akoni’s crew needed to do little besides keep the bow pointed in the right direction and see to the routine maintenance. It seemed to Uicha that all the people of the Central Sea had used the gods to make their lives easier and the seas more hospitable.

“You've really pirated one of those things?” Uicha asked.

“Pirated,” Akoni repeated with a snort. “Oh, indeed, how I have pirated, little brother. Not one quite so proud as the Mastermind. But I've gotten my share off these rich assholes, you bet.”

Uicha's gaze lingered on what looked like glowing red eyes carved into the gellezza's side. Those were the bolt-throwers. One of the openings had gone dark—presumably the weapon they had fired at Curse during their last encounter. The bolt-throwers could not be recharged at sea, Akoni had said, as the weapons required dangerous magics and sacrifices only the merchants could afford to pay. Eleven bolt-throwers still glowed on the side of the Mastermind facing them, and probably a dozen more on the side they couldn’t see. Uicha recalled the burnt and shattered wood that Akoni had pulled onboard. He wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of that bombardment. The captain assured him that they were out of the Mastermind's range. All the same, behind them on the quarterdeck, Chamberly lingered close to the controls in case they needed to make evasive maneuvers.

“How do you even approach something like that?” Uicha asked. “Without them torching your ship?”

“Quietly and at night. Onboard before anyone can raise a whisper. And then, a hasty retreat. They can't match us for speed. Never could, so they stopped trying, and now stick with bulk to scare us off.” Akoni sucked his teeth and shook his head regretfully. “This is not the way, I tell you that. Midday with a gods damned madman calling the shots? We’ll get no pirating done today, my friend. So, we keep our distance, eh? Self-preservation the richest reward.”

Uicha lowered the spyglass for a moment to glance to his left. Curse de Mou hung over the railing balanced on his belly, waving his hands over the water like a conductor. It has been Curse who'd told Akoni where they should drop anchor, but besides a delighted little dance, he'd so far had little to say about catching up to the merchants.

“What's he doing?” Uicha asked quietly.

“Fuckery,” Akoni responded. He nudged Uicha. “You get a look at the others yet?”

Uicha put the spyglass back to his eye and turned his attention from the majesty of the merchant gellezza to the unvarnished galley bearing the Gen'bi. The boat with its torn sails, cracking oars, and rickety water-wheel lacked the elegance of the Dartmyth or the power of the Mastermind. It was a working craft, like a hundred others that Uicha had seen docked in Noyega, nothing remotely special about it. And yet, here it sat in this empty expanse of ocean, one of three ships waiting for some mysterious trial to begin, despite having no advantages given by the gods.

The Gen'bi had anchored at a similar distance from the Mastermind, probably also wary of its bolt-throwers. Together, the three ships made a triangle around the patch of ocean in question. As Uicha studied this third boat, he noticed two distinct types of people aboard. He identified a small team of natural sailors—they wore loose clothes, moved about barefoot, and glided easily between stations. And then, there were the leather clad Gen'bi with their red-dyed hair, most of them looking exhausted and in the way, constantly needing to hold down their wide-brimmed hats whenever the wind picked up. Uicha counted about two dozen in total between both groups.

“They aren't used to the water,” Uicha said.

“No,” Akoni agreed. “Never known them to leave that desert of theirs. Something brewing with that, eh?”

Uicha swallowed. Could the Gen'bi have come to this place looking for him? Curse had said these people knew his name, that they heard it spoken on the wind or some equally prophetic nonsense. Could they have anticipated his presence? No. This was just a confluence of powerful people, all drawn here by Ink sent from the gods. Uicha wondered—should the three boats sit out here long enough doing nothing—who else might show up?

“Who's that with them?” Uicha asked. “The ones doing the sailing.”

Akoni shrugged. “Freelancers. Probably out of Beacon. Next time you want an honest crew, that's where you head. Only desperate fools try finding passage out of Noyega.”

Uicha smirked. “I found you guys in Noyega.”

“Aye,” Akoni said. “Exactly.”

Uicha started to turn his spyglass back to the gellezza when a woman on the Gen'bi ship caught his eye. She stood a bit taller than the others, her red-dyed hair fanning out from beneath a wide-brimmed black hat. Somehow, she looked less haggard than her fellows—fewer puke stains, perhaps. She didn't have a spyglass of her own, but Uicha could have sworn the woman was staring in his direction. He jumped and nearly bumbled the spyglass when she raised her hand and waved.

“What is it?” Akoni asked.

“I thought–”

The smell cut Uicha off. He and Akoni both reeled, hit by the stink of rotten meat. Uicha buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his elbow, while Akoni tugged his tunic over his face and spun toward Curse.

“What is that, you freak?” Akoni snapped.

Curse cackled, seemingly unbothered by the stench of death. He'd hopped down from the railing and now stood peering over, his hands on his hips.

“Captain, my scouts return to me,” he said. “I would hear their report.”

Uicha and Akoni joined Curse in time to see the last of six bloated bodies bob to the surface. Thinning mops of tangled hair hid bluish faces, saggy and waterlogged, the gelatinous flesh eaten away in places by fish. Uicha’s stomach turned. These sad figures had no doubt been called into existence by Curse’s [Summon Drowned] Ink. Now, floating on the water like reeking lily pads, the drowned tilted their empty eye sockets toward Curse.

“By the tides, this is disgraceful,” said Akoni. “This is why no one will sail with you, man.”

There was something distinctly Orvesian about Curse’s use of the undead. During their brief skirmish, Curse had also tried to use that [Life Drain] ability on Uicha. As soon as Uicha wondered about the champion’s choices in Ink, Kayenna Vezz manifested on the deck next to Curse. Uicha no longer startled at the witch’s infrequent appearances and, for once, the grisly scar where her head had been lopped off wasn’t the most gruesome sight on display.

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“He dabbles in the arts of my people,” Kayenna said, eyeing Curse. “You would be wise to make an ally of him. Tell him how you possess me and I suspect he would die for us.”

Uicha curled his lips in disgust, knowing that Kayenna would sense his disapproval. He waved a hand in front of his face as if to clear the stench, and the spirit disappeared.

Meanwhile, Curse paid Akoni’s reprimand no mind. His attention was entirely on the bodies floating below.

“Has the merchant champion gone down?” Curse asked his servants.

One of the drowned moaned in response. Another opened its mouth, only for something dark and slimy—an eel, Uicha thought—to come squirming loose.

“Nods or shakes, nods or shakes!” Curse bellowed. He glanced in Uicha’s direction. “Does your gargoyle train easier than this, eh?”

Akoni raised an eyebrow at Uicha. “What gargoyle?”

Rather than answer either question, Uicha pointed down at the bodies. “They’re nodding.”

“So they are!” Curse yipped. “She has gone down, yes?”

The drowned continued to wobble their heads in agreement, all except for one whose neck opened with a squelching sound, its head flopping backward between its shoulder blades. Uicha bumped into Akoni as he took a sudden step back, remembering how Ahmed Roh’s head had dangled from the archmage’s body. He steadied himself and shot Akoni an apologetic look.

“And has she engaged the enemy?” Curse asked.

The nodding continued. Curse chortled.

“How does she fare, eh?”

The nodding stopped. Wrinkled faces stared up at Curse.

Curse sighed. “Is she likely to win?”

As one, the drowned began shaking their heads. Curse clapped delightedly.

“We are one step ahead, as ever!” He waved the drowned away. “Go, then! Return below and raise the alarm when the creature makes to rise!”

Curse’s face fell as the bloated bodies made no move to obey. Instead, one of them groaned, while two others listlessly waved their arms above their heads as if signaling for rescue.

“Ah. So it comes.” Curse spun to Akoni. “Captain, fetch me a harpoon.”

Akoni grabbed Curse by the arm, rustling the seagull feathers that covered his caftan. “Creature, you said?”

Curse grinned. “Did I?”

“You know what’s down there?”

“Many, many things are down there,” Curse said with a wink. “Just because the merchants wished away the leviathan does not mean the sea floor does not yet harbor beasts known only to the oca’em. Great creatures that smartly keep to themselves, unless provoked to aggression by the gods. Only then shall we have the pleasure.”

Captain Akoni glanced over his shoulder at Chamberly, as if considering issuing an order to retreat. “What have you gotten us into, madman?”

“Adventure!” Curse shouted, then leaned close to the captain. “Days back, before you found me, I saw the beast as she tried to flee. I might have warned the merchants if they hadn’t fired upon me. Now, she has grown tired of retreating, and so we let the merchants strike the first blow, draw her attention, perhaps soften her up. And then… I shall have the Ink.”

“You could’ve warned me,” Akoni snapped. “You put our people at risk.”

“Oh, captain, but then you might not have come.” Curse plucked Akoni’s hand off his arm. “Don’t worry. The boy and I will keep you safe.”

As the men bickered, Uicha scanned the ocean with his spyglass. The water seemed peaceful and still. Perhaps Curse’s undead servants had been mistaken in their evaluation of whatever transpired beneath the surface. Uicha saw nothing except for—

He pointed. “Bubbles.”

Akoni and Curse were at his side instantly. Something was indeed rising from the depths. There was activity on the Mastermind, too—they’d surely seen the disturbance. Uicha detected less movement on the Gen’bi ship, but before he could really see if they’d raised an alarm, Curse snatched his spyglass away.

Squinting, Uicha made out a glistening orb as it broke the ocean’s surface. The bubble was about the size of a wagon and shone in the sunlight as it floated slowly higher. The sphere proceeded on a looping trajectory toward the Mastermind.

“Just the merchant champion making her escape,” Curse said, sounding disappointed. He sucked in a breath, then, and grabbed Uicha’s shoulder. “Wait! Grab her, little champion!”

Uicha’s eyebrows shot up. “Grab her with what?”

“Your mind, fool!” Curse clapped his hands. “Quickly, now! Before she makes it back to her boat!”

“Why would—?”

“They won’t fire on us.” It was Akoni who answered. “Not if we’ve got their champion onboard. They could kill her in the trying.” He snorted. “Suppose we will get to do some stealing, eh?”

Uicha did as he was told, reaching out with his [Telekinesis]. He felt a strain on his chest—like a muscle pulling—from the distance he attempted to bridge. It was the furthest point he’d used the ability from and he sensed there wouldn’t be much left when he finished. The protective bubble offered no resistance. In fact, the thing felt entirely weightless, and got much easier to manipulate the closer he dragged it to the Dartmyth.

“Merchant idiots probably wondering why she’d come to us,” Curse said, chuckling.

“Mine is a much finer boat,” Akoni replied.

As soon as Uicha had reeled the bubble to a safe distance over the Dartmyth’s deck, it popped. Although the drop was only a few feet, Uicha still used his [Telekinesis] to gently lower the unconscious young woman to the deck. In her sunwear, she hardly looked attired to confront some monster of the seas, but then Uicha supposed one couldn’t exactly wear armor underwater. The sight of the champion’s body made Uicha wince, covered as it was in welts the size of dinner plates, each slowly turning purple and oozing pinpricks of blood.

“Sheppa!” Akoni hollered for the Dartmyth’s medic. “Get your kit!”

“Feh,” Curse grunted. “She can take care of herself, captain. And if she can’t…” He made a wanking motion and turned back to the ocean. “Come on, now. Show yourself, lovey.”

Despite her state, the merchant champion did breathe steadily. Standing over her, Uicha took a closer look at her Ink.

Milena Russi

Merchant’s Bay

11th Renown

Open Weak Point

Water Breathing

Stealth Shield

Assess

Taunt

Orb of Safety

Duelist

Recovery+

Reaction+

Swordplay+

Speed+

Agility+

Private Arena

Dazzling Flourish

Uicha felt confident that the woman’s [Recovery+], a lesser version of his own [Regeneration], would gradually heal her injuries. What truly drew him to the duelist’s collection of Ink was the crimson symbol on her left shoulder. Uicha sensed that it wasn’t like the runes that decorated his torso. Although covered by some glossy sealant—likely to prevent the seawater from interfering with its magic—the precisely drawn symbol wasn’t permanent. And yet, something about the sight of chanic made the tips of Uicha’s fingers tingle.

Without thinking, Uicha reached out to touch the crimson symbol.

And the red leapt forth to meet him.

Abandoning its shape, the chanic coiled in a braid around Uicha’s two fingers. He stumbled upright as it slithered up his arm, over his shoulder, and down onto his chest where it finally settled on his symbol for [Wildcard].

MORE!

The Forgotten One’s voice—and its unspeakable weight—landed directly in Uicha’s mind. He clapped his hands over his ears.

If you wish a reward, you must find MORE!

A cold sweat spread across Uicha’s back, but the presence of the Forgotten One was already gone, restrained, dragged back to its prison as the chanic turned dry on Uicha’s chest. As he dropped his hands, Uicha heard screaming—howls, in fact—coming from the direction of the Gen’bi boat. They were wails of pain and confusion, but they were quickly drowned out by the sound of a wave breaking where it shouldn’t.

The Dartmyth swayed—rocked by a sudden current.

For a moment, Uicha worried someone had seen him take the chanic from the merchant champion, but he quickly realized that everyone aboard the Dartmyth was entirely distracted by the meaty, dark blue tentacle that had burst forth from the depths.

The bolt-throwers on the Mastermind crackled to life. Streaks of lightning fired toward the tentacle—the first went wide, the second sheared off the suckers on the underside, the third filled the air with the aroma of cooking meat. The tentacle slipped back beneath the water and for a moment things were still.

And then, two more tentacles shot upward, raking across the side of the Mastermind. Sailors were crushed and tossed into the water. A bolt-thrower discharged—but the tentacle was too close to the side of the ship—and fire erupted on the lower deck. Like a bulbous sapphire, Uicha watched the head of the giant octopus slowly rise, all eight of its arms now whipping toward the Mastermind. Even from this distance, he could see dark veins of Ink running across the beast’s dome-shaped head.

“Captain,” Curse said giddily. “About that harpoon?”

Uicha might have stood there—shocked and frozen—if a cold hand hadn’t closed over his wrist and yanked him downward.

“Who the fuck are you?” Milena Russi snarled.

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