“So you’re a bum, then?” Serpacinno, now an adult, asked.
“Not the term I would use,” Paracelsus, two years older than last we saw him, replied, “But yes.”
“Alright then. How do you plan on getting a ship?”
“Now that’s a good question,” Serpacinno was getting up, and he felt inclined to follow, “I’m already a criminal-”
“I’ll stop you right there,” She stopped herself, as well, “I don’t associate with criminals.”
Luckily for Paracelsus, he was a conman by nature. He was used to swindling others, usually by making them believe they were swindling him. He noted the presence of a sword on her back.
“That sword you have, it’s not the one you want, am I right?” He put his hands up in surrender when that very sword was drawn and placed against his neck. “Not to insult it, it’s a very fine sword; even a novice like myself can tell.”
“Oh? And can you tell how much it thirsts for your blood?”
He lowered a finger and lightly pushed the sword away from him, “As I said: I’m a novice. You’ve heard of Kósmeidí, yes?”
That seemed to intrigue her, the slightest closing of the eyes indicated to the young man that he had struck a chord, “Go on.”
He more boldly pushed the sword away, hoping to establish his confidence, “Ach, I shouldn’t!” He turned his head away, blocking it with his hand, “But I suppose I have no choice. I happen to know how to acquire it, although I’ve no interest in using it myself.”
“And why is that?” She raised an eyebrow, and Paracelsus knew he might be gaining momentum.
“Again, I’m no swordsman. I can swing one around, but not very well. I figure I should leave that duty to someone such as you.”
“And why me in particular?”
To be honest, he didn’t know. There was something familiar about her, something he had seen before. He must’ve spent too much time pondering, though, as the young lady started to walk away with a Tch.
He rushed forward a few paces, walking backwards so as to face her at the end, “Because one look told me you were a capable fighter. And I think that our personalities will balance each other out.”
“Don’t lie. One look at you tells me you’re more than capable in a fight.” She stopped, but she didn’t turn away, which was a good sign. “Back to the main point, what’s your actual plan for getting a ship?”
Paracelsus produced a paper from his back pocket, “A manifest. The Unbroken Gale is docking at a port ten minutes by foot in around an hour. We’ll pretend to be longshoremen, I’ll subtly destroy the rode, and as the ship sails, we can mutiny.”
“If you destroy the rode, how are we gonna be able to anchor when we make port somewhere else?”
“I can repair it, don’t worry. The bigger issue, and one for which we’ll have to prepare, is the matter of docking rights. Since we won’t own the ship, we won’t be able to dock it. As such, I propose we register the boat under a new name when we reach Yuriol.”
“So the ship’s already on the inner shore of this ring?” Paracelsus nodded in response. “Well, I can navigate, but without a few riggers, how are we to sail? Dedicated longshoremen seem to imply the vessel is of some size.”
“We’ll only lower one sail, partially; we don’t need to sail fast if we take the indirect currents through the Stanry Channel.” He offered back, “If you think you can do it.”
She smirked at the challenge, “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to goad me into this.” Paracelsus nervously swallowed, “But alright, I’ll help you out.”
“Sounds like a plan, Miss…” He offered his hand.
She took it, replying “Serpacinno.”
“Paracelsus.”
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An hour passed in the blink of an eye, and the two adventurers were dressed in simple sailor’s clothing, Serpacinno’s snakes wrapped below a bandana. The two of them were able to pass themselves off well, especially with Paracelsus misting the lady at the shipping office.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“The captain just disembarked.” Serpacinno informed, lifting a barrel of fresh water on the ramp.
Her companion nodded in response, loading a barrel of gunpowder onto the ship. As he walked past the capstan, he pretended to fall, subject to the jeers of the crew, one of whom relieved him of the barrel. Seeing his opportunity, he got up with the capstan’s assistance, in the process feeling the structure out in his mind. He could visualize the chain leading to the anchor, and thinned it out enough where the weight of the anchor snapped it. Hopefully, no one would notice the capstan now had a core of oak, rather than pine.
A chorus of shouting and panic were heard as the ship started to drift, albeit slowly due to the raised sails. Then stepped out who would prove to be the biggest problem to Paracelsus, the first mate of the ship.
“What’s going on out here?!” She barked, her readers still on her head - she was clearly interrupted in the middle of a task of great importance. She looked over toward Paracelsus and asked, “You done it?”
“No ma’am.”
She sniffed at him before letting out a low chuckle, “You don’t know who I am, do you?” She felt tempted to wait for a response, but continued “I s’pose not, otherwise you’d know I can sniff out liars…” She leaned close into his face, her pretty visage betrayed by her putrid breath, “And I don’t much care for liars. Lads!”
As the group of seamen descended upon him, Paracelsus threw a small bomb at his feet which erupted into a plume of smoke. He ran out of it, towards the bow, and threw a miniature facsimile of chain shot at the captain who was now attempting to pursue.
“What’s the plan now?” Serpacinno asked, slashing a man who would’ve bore down upon her fellow traveler across the back.
In return, Paracelsus threw a small sheet behind her, which had curiously changed to an iron veil, guarding against the barrage of shot from the crew. The first volley ceased, and he turned to her, “I reckon, if you still think I’m capable, I’ll deal with the hound.”
She nodded, returning her attention to the various crewmen. Without the use of their guns, she was more than capable of exchanging blows with those who had the bravery to clash swords. Of course, that’s not to say she was invincible. Minor injuries - slashes from daggers, bruises from fists, the occasional lashing out of someone’s gift had all, to some extent, injured her gradually over the course of the battle; still, she persevered through her efforts.
Meanwhile, Paracelsus was finding it a bit more difficult; he knew any attempts at diplomacy would now be fruitless, but the first mate had clearly earned her position. Simply put, she was a capable fighter armed with a powerful club.
So, am I to assume her sniffing out my treachery was the work of a gift? He ducked, nearly dodging what would have been a fatal blow. But I can’t rule out the possibility that she has multiple. He attempted to thrust a rapier he had conjured, but found his blow parried. He briefly looked towards Serpacinno, but decided against interrupting her while she was dealing with her own issues.
“Enough running about, rat!” The first mate brought the club down, and with a mighty thwack it planted itself firmly in the deck.
As she attempted to free it, Paracelsus saw opportunity, running up the club and changing them into chains which wrapped around his adversary. He breathed a breath of relief, confident in his own victory.
“Behind you!” The swordswoman shouted, and Paracelsus obeyed.
His eyes widened as she flexed, her muscles growing grotesquely large and breaking through her restraints. She used the remnants of them to act as a whip, and Paracelsus realized he had given her an advantage far too large - range; she could strike him at the foremast from the captain’s quarters.Another issue was its speed, as he could not attempt to touch it and transfigure it without opening himself up to being physically maimed.
“Getting tired? I can go all day!” The chain was moving even faster now. Paracelsus became acutely aware that attempting to trap the chain within the floor would only destroy the ship further.
“Let’s swap.” Serpacinno said, the two turning around each other with surprising synchronicity.
Paracelsus took to his new role of crowd control with a fair amount of ease, when a sword came his way, he changed it to extend the hilt back into the gut of the man slicing him. He changed the deck to a more malleable substance and trapped his opponents when they got too close.
Back with Serpacinno, she was ducking and dodging her new foe, analyzing for any weakness to exploit. The simple answer came down to experience, she had much more experience with a sword than she reckoned her opponent had with a chain. As such, she waited for the moment when the momentum of the weapon had halted, and then she made her move.
“If you move,” Serpacinno now had her sword at the first mate’s throat, “You die.”
Paracelsus rubbed his hands free of imaginary chalk before pushing his hair back, “So then, you two are acquainted? Good.”
“What should we do with them?”
He pondered, chin in hand, “Keep her hostage for a moment. We’ll have the crew get us underway to Port Laroi.”
“Port Laroi? I thou-”
“Port. Laroi.” Paracelsus tried in vain to communicate the hidden message that he was lying to throw the crew off his trail.
Either she understood or she didn’t; either way, she made no protest.
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“All done.” One of the sailors, a Mr. Cramer, if Paracelsus remembered correctly, said. “I’d say, all in all, we’re probably about seven or so miles from the port.”
The “captain” raised his hand to dismiss him, “Thank you.” He then cupped that hand and the other around his mouth and shouted, “Everyone aboard the skiffs!”
The crew, tied up save a few of the weaker-looking ones, complied and loaded onto the ships. The last one was filled with the former-first-mate. Once Paracelsus verified visually they were on their way, he returned to his travelmate.
“What the hell was that about?” Serpacinno asked.
“That was a spur-of-the-moment decision to throw them off our tracks, I apologize for not telling you ahead of time,” He saw that she wasn’t fully assuaged, “And I apologize for making it appear as though I’m your boss.”
“What are you then? Partner?” She squinted, seemingly prodding his brain.
“I suppose that’s a good term.” He put his hand out, yet again, “Partners.”
“Partners.”
“Now that’s settled, I think we ought discuss our next move.” He moved to the halyard, “Help me raise these sails?”
Serpacinno came over, grabbed onto the rope and together the two of them painstakingly raised the sails sufficiently to drop speed. They proceeded to repeat the process on the mainsail, leaving a bit more so as to not drop speed too much.
“If I may ask, where’d you learn to sail? I was never much for it, usually a passenger aboard ships.” Serpacinno sat down, seemingly more tired from sailing than fighting.
“I’ve never been a particularly good fighter. I can handle myself… but I couldn’t survive that way some boys can.” He looked sad to Serpacinno’s eyes, “If you can’t protect yourself, you need to be needed.”
“And you chose to learn how to sail?”
“Partially… but I also just… enjoy the sea.” He gave a (clearly fake) smirk, “Anyway… They probably won’t follow us in the irons, so unless there’s a storm…” He pushed off his knees and retired to the captain’s quarters, “I’ll be sleeping soundly until morning.”
“Goodnight.” Serpacinno replied, walking to the lower deck.