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Soul Forged
Act II, Prologue, 01: Raine von Alder

Act II, Prologue, 01: Raine von Alder

Three hundred miles off the coast of Elvier, Navoradreus. 501 years ago.

Quartermaster Raine von Alder knew there was no glorifying what she and the crew of Moira’s Hand were. They were pirates; opportunistic plunderers, marauders, and occasional murderers. There had been a time when those like her held much more noble pursuits. Many of the more well known pirate groups had their start as shipping escorts to and from the old world continents of Aurielle and Tel Adreus to the new world continents of Navorinelle and Navoradreus.

Ship-sized beasts made the Raiss Ocean their home, and though most didn’t exactly go out of their way to cause harm, even a curious leviathan could sink a merchant cruiser it took an interest in. When a one-way trip took an average of a hundred days, you wanted to make sure every ship laden with supplies and goods made it across the ocean.

But things had deteriorated when the old world increased taxes on the vessels escorting the goods from the new world to the point of unprofitability due to the increase in aforementioned sea monster encounters. To recoup the costs to society by the mounting losses of life and property, had been the Triskelion’s justification at the time.

Though that had been a farce. In reality, House Areth had used their influence as the wealthiest family on all four continents to bully the fleets of escort ships out of a job so they could take on the role themselves. With the sky high prices they charged to outside companies, trade had dwindled between the new and old world and what remained funneled almost entirely through House Areth.

The escorts had initially tried to undercut House Areth, but further laws had been passed to… discourage that. Left with no other options, an entire generation of formerly honest folk had become the monsters of the seas themselves.

Operating primarily in the very narrow band of water between Navorinelle and Navoradreus too shallow for most large sea monsters to inhabit, the Red Fleet and other pirate factions enjoyed rather lucrative hunting grounds that spanned nearly three hundred thousand square miles.

That was why the Fleet’s flagship, Moira’s Hand, now found herself anchored beside a small atoll while her two consorts, Stray II and Her Executioner, hid nearby behind a small, crescent-shaped island barely a mile long and a quarter mile wide.

That island's defining feature was the lightly forested mountain that extended high enough to block the view of the two first rate ships of the line from any vessels approaching from the south. Doubly so with the mists Stray and Executioner's wind runners kicked up to obscure them and the island in the appearance of a dense, foggy squall.

Though they were highly skilled elementalist mages and enjoyed a lucrative position of status on board any pirate ship, Raine did not envy wind runners. A sailing vessel depended heavily upon her wind runners under combat or bad weather. It was grueling work that often left them past the point of exhaustion as they poured their mana into the winds that carried a ship up to her flank speed or beat back the very waves threatening a capsizing.

Fortune was on the Red Fleet’s side as the sky, clouds dark and grey with the promise of rain, finally let loose its downpour. The rain fell in heavy sheets that no doubt obscured Moira and her consorts even further from the approaching ships. The trap could not have been laid better if the gods themselves had planned it.

“Lookout on the atoll spots three ships, bearing three-zero-zero degrees!” shouted Moira's Hand's lookout from the main mast over the sound of the heavy rain.

Raine pulled her telescope from her bag, wiped away the blinding rain from her eyes, and looked to the southwest. On the horizon, a small dot was slowly growing, resolving itself into two and then three ships heading their way.

“How the hell can those lookouts see anything in all this?” Avanyu grumbled, looking through his own telescope. Raine's long time friend and shipmaster had only one eye and that one wasn't very good.

“Oh, it's definitely three ships. Looks like your tip paid off,” Raine clapped Avanyu on the back.

About a month ago, Avanyu had received word of a ship laden with gold and precious gems leaving Rielle for Elvier. The tip had come too late to act on robbing the ship of her coin, but that ship was headed to Elvier to purchase enchanted arms and armor. The old world brought some enchantment types with them, but the natives of Navoradreus, the Cait Sidhe, or cat folk, had a far larger catalogue of enchantment types, which they kept their method of creation well hidden. And that was what made them so valuable.

The shallows between Navorinelle and Navoradreus were full of small rocky islands or other features that took a keen eye to navigate through even in clear weather. This particular atoll and nearby island made a good anchorage to wait out a storm. The remnant of a volcano, its waters were deep enough to prevent an accidental grounding if one laid down in the center and waited for the storm to pass overhead.

Those two facts had made setting up the ambush a much easier bet than trying to slug it out in a naval battle as Avanyu had originally devised when they set out on their hunt.

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Waiting until the lookouts reported the trio of ships dropped anchor, just inside nine hundred yards away, Captain Nikolas Grimme raised his speaking trumpet.

“Weigh anchor and get us off this rock!”

The ship’s boatswain, Hisack Rakes, a thin man who looked old enough to have sailed upon the very first ships to Navorinelle nearly two hundred years ago, raised his pipe and passed along the Captain's command with his call.

The captain and his boatswain had come to the Red Fleet with Stray II, Elvier’s former first rate ship of the line. Grimme and his crew had become disillusioned with Elvier when they'd been ordered to fire upon a crippled vessel they'd found damaged at sea. Its crew had been accused of piracy and they'd been ordered not to render aid to the wounded on board as was maritime law.

Grimme had refused the order, citing that even pirates would provide limited aid to any ship weakened and unable to sail or defend itself. For that, he had been branded a traitor. The entirety of his crew had stood behind him and they stole the ship, sailing until eventually running into the ship they'd spared, which had brought them to Respite Island where they joined the Red Fleet.

The training Grimme instilled in the crews of the Fleet’s ships had earned him their respect and it had been an easy vote to make him the Captain of the Fleet. With his leadership, the Red Fleet caught more of their prey and suffered fewer casualties than any captain before him.

That training showed in the way the crew moved about in the seemingly random, yet well executed, performance of their tasks. The anchor came in at the exact moment Moira’s blood red sails were set to grab the wind.

“Helmsman, set a course for zero-two-zero. We’ll cross their T and present our broadside. Signalman, raise the flag to order their surrender and to prepare to be boarded. Windrunners, ahead flank!”

The windrunners, an older man named Rafi and his apprentice, a young girl named Genevieve, called forth a gail for the sails to bite down on. Their casting sped up, no doubt they were dumping mana as the sails were angled for the best use of the generated wind.

With her wind runners, Moira could achieve a flank speed of approximately fifteen knots. Her masts were reinforced with an iron core and main sails were double secured to take the beating her wind runners dished out on them with the need to go from ahead full to stop on a call from the captain.

The signalman raised a white flag with a bloody red slash through it on the foremast. A white flag, which typically requested a cessation of fire and a request to talk, slashed with “blood” was the pirates’ way of offering a peaceful surrender and handing over of loot. The Red Fleet always gave their prey a chance to do things peacefully at first.

However, their prey’s escorts had decided to take the chance at fighting them off, figuring their three to one odds gave them an advantage. Both ships’ chase guns opened up. Aim likely spoiled by the surprise of the attack, the eight rounds fell well short of Moira, sending up only splashes of water that just missed the deck.

Grimme smiled. “Looks like they want it the hard way.”

He turned and shouted to the boatswain. “Signal the gunners, prepare for portside action!”

With a nod from Grimme, Raine shouted the next command for those on deck to hear. “Strike the white and raise the colors!”

Boatswain Rakes repeated the commands on his pipe and a chorus of cheers and stamps of feet on the deck answered as a solid black flag with thirty-seven red X’s across the field rose up the aft mass. The commotion from the gun deck below and the hard clacking of the gunport’s lids going full open added to the music of battle preparation that accompanied the battle flag’s rising.

Raine couldn't help but also smile as the large flag caught the wind, displaying its full colors. Hopefully we’ll add three new X’s today.

Moira was the lightest armed ship of their trio, having been a governor’s yacht before being plundered and converted to their flagship. Fortunately she wasn't the main show, her job was only to hold the attention of the three ships while her consorts prepared to engage them.

“Gunners may fire as they please. Concentrate fire on the smaller ship!” Captain Grimme said, continuing to stare through his own telescope.

Moira’s eighteen twenty-four pounders and twelve sixteen pounders opened up, their deep thumps rumbling through the planks beneath Raine’s feet as more than half their shots fell true.

The main mast of their primary target exploded, toppling forward, taking the foremast and many of her sails over the side with it.

More white puffs from one of her escort’s chase guns caused Raine to immediately pull her telescope from her face and turn as the wooden railing before her exploded in a shower of splinters. Warmth oozed down her forehead.

“You good, Raine?” Avanyu called.

Raine wiped the blood from her face. “They can't aim for shit! I ate worse for breakfast this morning!”

Avanyu laughed heartily. Chef, if he could even be called that, Mikey's “cooking” was well known to be some of the foulest muck ever forced upon a crew. A round shot from nearly eight hundred yards directly to the mouth might actually taste better than his “finest” cooking.

Before either of their prey’s escort’s could turn to present their own broadsides, Stray II came out from her hiding place behind the fog-covered island like a wraith in the night and at point blank range, delivered her full fifty-five gun broadside into the closest escort ship.

White smoke and fire momentarily hid Stray and her target as the rolling thunder rumbled all the way to Raine’s ears as she watched the ship blow apart from bow to stern. Secondary explosions, now doubt from the magazine, reduced her to a pile of burning splinters that sank quickly beneath the waves she coughed up as she went down.

Cheers rose again around Moira’s deck as the two remaining ships struck their colors in surrender.

Her Executioner swung around Stray II to float just off the starboard quarter of the remaining consort of their prey, safely outside of her own cannons’ range.

“They surrendered too quickly! Asa will never let us hear the end of it that his crew didn't get to blow anything up,” Captain Grimme said with a laugh. He paused, focusing his telescope. “The smaller ship is definitely Thirza. Avanyu, it was your information that brought us this prize. You should be the one to claim it.”