Out of the water sprung a pair of thickly braided ropes which were absolutely littered with large fishing hooks. Each hook was as wide nearly as wide as my forearm. Water that drenched the obstacles exploded outwards as the rope went taut in front of our vessel. Twin thuds, followed by impact tremors sounded from the opposite sides of the riverbank and I got the distinct impression two massive weights had simultaneously struck earth. Whatever it was, the effect had pulled up the interwoven ropes directly in our path, one going up to the height of the Siren’s sails, the other barely making it over the forward deck. With no room to maneuver, let alone enough time to do so, the Moon Siren crashed headlong into the lines. The snaring hooks tore into our sails, ripping long gashes in the fabric as our momentum carried us forward. This all ended when the taut obstacles slammed into the forward mast, bringing our ship to an abrupt stop.
“To arms! Repel all boarders,” Captain Larsa went into action, rapid firing orders with the crew responding with precision and practiced movements. This was not the first time the crew had been ambushed and it wouldn’t be the last if I had anything to say about it. Still, the trap had been successfully sprung. From the looks of it, we had no way of breaking free without the dozens of hooks being painstakingly removed. We were dead in the water. Obviously, this ambush had been entirely new to our experienced captain though he was working feverishly to remedy our predicament.
Then arrows started landing all over the deck from both sides of the river, slamming fore and aft into planking and flesh alike. Shouts of pain resounded across the morning air.
New Quest! ‘Turn the Tide’ has automatically been added to your quest log.
No time to read the quest, plus I figured it was previously obvious what I needed to do, I quickly cast my regeneration spell, over and over, on the nearby injured crewmen. With the quick cast time and one-second cool down, I was able to get many back up to their feet and into fighting shape over the next several seconds. Another volley came in, though the crew responded better the second time around, taking cover as a call of “incoming” was shouted from high above. After the latest volley ended, aggressive shouts and yells carried to our ears from the vessel moored beside the Siren. Instead of arrows, this time dozens of grappling hooks sailed in, catching sails and ropes. The clattering of ramps followed soon after.
“Let the dogs have it, men.” Larsa continued to issue commands in days past I wouldn’t have been able to parse or make sense of. Now though, I knew how to respond. A few men still had arrows sprouting from deep wounds, so my regeneration spell was cast again and again, back-to-back, on the injured men. Experienced sailors all, each pulled the sharp projectiles out with grunts of pain, allowing my magic to close the puncture wounds.
A pitched battle began in earnest when some three dozen men rushed onto the Siren’s main deck. Many swung over on lines anchored in the sails above our heads. Most boarded using a half dozen ramps bridging the gap between the two motionless ships. Weapons were bared, eyes scanning for Lara’s men.
There was a problem, we were outnumbered perhaps two to one.
As bodies slammed into each other, the pirates rushed headlong forward, shouts of pain called out from both sides. Larsa’s men were skilled fighters, though even they were hard-pressed with the number of enemies surrounding them. A shrill yell cut through the chaos, the sound only coming from someone mortally wounded, caught my attention. It was coming from the closet bank across the river.
Turning my head, I witnessed a second arrow lance into a pirate’s chest. The man’s scream was cut off as the arrow pierced the man’s heart. Tallos was making quick work of the enemy archers from atop the crow’s nest, raining arrow after arrow of his own. He had several full quivers up there, far more than normally needed, in anticipation of our practice session which had been planned for later that day. He would need every arrow available now.
Both Ripley and Lowki had immediately bolted into action, even as my first spells began knitting together pierced flesh. Ripley, her great sword swinging in great arcs, was fighting on our deck, though Lowki had cleared the distance between the two ships in a single leap. His claws and punishing quills caused havoc among the enemy’s back ranks, like a living tornado. Even over the cacophony of battle, Lowki’s primal roars were unmistakable. Each one indicating the death of another pirate. His battle cry stirred our men, reminding all we could in fact win against the press of so many enemies.
I had to put Lowki and Ripley out of my mind through, I needed to get in the fight. My heals certainly spared the lives of at least some of our men, but my talents were better spent elsewhere. I needed to get into the fight! Even with Ripley’s carving sword and Lowki’s poisonous attacks, the battle was turning against the crew of the Siren. We were outnumbered, now at least three to one as more pirates stormed the deck. Our men were falling before the onslaught of the obviously veteran pirates. Our crew were better fighters, costing the enemy more lives than we lost, but one pirate killed seemed to bring forward two more. We couldn’t replenish our ranks as our enemy could. We were losing the battle of attrition.
Being a Hunter, I was able to spy more than one enemy nameplate sporting a level fifteen tag, most were around level twelve. From my time on the ship, I knew the Siren’s crew levels ranged between eight and twelve. I could no longer afford to defer to the role of a cleric. I needed to make up the difference and even the battle. My first spell had already been planned days earlier. My fingers twirled in a particular dance, their movements reminding me of a rolling thundercloud.
With the final arcane syllable pronounced, a blinding flash of light split the air causing a momentary break in the pitched combat. Afterimages filled the eyes of anyone unfortunately enough to witness a thick bolt of electricity slashing forward into the closest four pirates. As if possessed, lightning rapidly jumped from target to target with devastating effect. Even as hands futility waved in front of faces to dispel the ghostly image, the smell of ozone billowed outwards. Several men fell smoking to the deck, life snatched from their bodies. Even as shouts of alarm echoed from the enemy, cheers rose from the Siren’s men.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath at the sheer ferocity of the spell. While it was unusable again for the next ten seconds, the unrestrained energy that leaped from target to target was undeniable. I was unsure of the levels of the pirates who had fallen, having selected the initial target at random, so I couldn’t tell how the spell’s targeting worked. Did it hit the lowest health mobs, or did it go after the lowest-leveled ones? Maybe Stella could enlighten me later. What was clear was the four deceased pirates hadn’t mustered the close to one thousand health necessary to survive each bolt of lightning created. Still, I planned to continue using my new spell whenever it became available.
“Stella, please let me know when the cool down has elapsed,” I said to Stella, though I never took my eyes away from the pirates once more hacking into my Moon Siren friends. I considered using a fireball, but only for a split second. There was no way I could use the spell reliably without hitting our men or destroying more of the Siren’s sails. Perhaps I could fling the spell on the enemy’s ship, but I had no line of sight currently with countless men standing between the two vessels. Firing on the pirate’s ship was no good because Lowki was making good use of his agility.
So, I moved to my class’s specialty, my tried-and-true spells. Blood boil, acidic bolt, any damage over time spell I could cast reached out with necrotic, acidic, and soul-stealing energy into the enemy’s force. Waves of heat lashed into one particularly tall brigand, his height catching my attention to his determent. The bandit’s back arced in pain, though he quickly regained his composure. His curved blade bit deep into a sailor named Bruce. We had only shared a few words, and now the deep wound would probably cost the man his life. The mortal attack did not go unanswered though, as a shipmate plunged his sword deep into the pirate’s side.
I lost sight of the particular battle in the chaotic scene. Focusing on another pirate, I cast my new DoT, Arrested Affliction, followed by yet another Blood Boil. My objective was to keep my Blood Boil spells centered on the greatest concentration of enemies. Once those particular enemies died, the resulting torrent of boiling blood would rabidly seek out nearby hostile targets.
“Stella,” I shouted so she could easily hear me. “Can you highlight any target with DOTs already ticking?” It was important I didn’t overwrite a spell already damaging a rival. With so many pirates around, I needed to cast a single DOT per target. At least, for now. My damage needed to be spread around for my plan to be successful.
“On it,” Stella shouted back, her arms flashing in the air in my peripheral vision.
The effect was near-instantaneous. Each pirate with a DOT affecting him had a new icon floating above their head. The icons differed depending on the spell impacting their health pool, so I would need to take time later to identify which spell was which. In the fierce battle, I had little for it.
With each passing second, a new spell was spread out at random, though I always cast my blood boil near the largest group of enemies. My spells and earlier shout had enemies calling out my position. They recognized the damage a spell caster could bring to bear, especially in such a fray. “Kill the mage,” an angry voice called out, repeated several times by nearby raiders. Finding myself suddenly pressed upon by multiple foes, my options appeared to dwindle at the shift in battle. I was now a priority for the invaders. About to call Frostrend in my hand, as hand-to-hand combat seemed unavoidable, an arrow flashed in from a far bank to slam harmlessly an inch above my skin. My empowered aegis, I recognized.
The potent defensive shield stopped the attack mid-flight, though I still felt something akin to a pinpoint punch hitting my shoulder. No damage dipped my health pool. My mana had been dropping rapidly with so many spell casts, and the damage from the arrow dropped it slightly more.
Recognizing the advantage my ward afforded me, I no longer call out to my battle axe. Even as enemies barreled forward, I cast another spell. This time, it was another chained lightning. As long as my aegis held, and it would only fall if I bottomed out my mana pool, my adversary couldn’t interrupt my spell casting. Their swords, fists, or punch daggers no longer reached me.
Even as curved swords landed heavily against my protective field, the force of the impact still reaching across the gap to land on my body, I went uninterrupted as a flash of lightning tore down the four closest enemies in an instant. My attention was pulled by another pair of arrows slamming into my shield, so in response, my hands twined through the patterns of a spell that had not yet graced the battle. A small pea of flame struck out over the calm water, towards an archer even now pulling back the string of his bow. My spell connected against him before another arrow loosed.
The ball of fire exploded, enveloping him, several nearby trees, and other enemy archers. The man was blasted backward a dozen feet, now nothing more than a blackened shell of his former self. My attention returned to the myriad skirmishes happening all over the deck. Having a hard time picking out an enemy without a DOT ticking down, the press of bodies severely limited my view, I instead decided to call Frostrend into my hand.
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Charging a brigand standing over a down comrade, I held my empty hand up high before swinging it downwards at him. The man must have thought me a lunatic, seeing me weaponless. He made no move to defend against my seemingly harmless attack. Until my battle axe appeared an instant before impact. The weapon slammed into his shoulder, blood and bits of bone showering out from the blow. Worse for the raider, the weapon’s special effect, ‘blistering freeze,’ took effect. Even as the mist of blood carried in the air, the entire wound flashed a deep blue before freezing over in an instant. Crystalline shards of ice crashed out from the wound, covering his torso in the blink of an eye.
My weapon was still lodged in his body. With a surge of strength, I tugged it out.
Like an icicle crashing against the pavement, his upper torso broke into tiny chunks of frozen flesh as my weapon pulled free. A nearby pirate looked on with stunned hesitation at his comrade in arms. He stared unblinkingly at the lifeless, ice-coated, form of his compatriot.
In his moment of hesitation, the corsair lost his life too.
Momentarily without a foe, I peered around at the mass of fighting men. Then, my initial plan became a reality. A detonation of sizzling liquid, like someone opened a fire hydrant, signaled its start. A man affected by my boil blood had finally succumbed to his wound, triggering the specialized effect of my spell, ‘blistering surge.’ A violent eruption of searing blood showered any nearby foe, scalding like only molten magma. Not a drop landed on any of Larsa’s men.
Like dominos, three more enemy combatants’ health pools zeroed out triggering new surges of their own. My earlier casts of boil blood had not been cast from one another, instead concentrating where most of the enemy clustered. My foresight paid dividends as torrents of sweltering blood homed in on enemy flesh, bringing out a complete lull in the battle as more than a dozen pirates lay dead from the cataclysmic eruptions.
Experience notifications flashed across my vision, but this wasn’t over yet. My own shout was a second away from erupting, when Captain Larsa called out, “Forward!” His sword drenched in the blood of multiple foes, Larsa took the first step, his men following his lead. His call was repeated all over the ship as the onslaught continued. The tide of the battle had shifted. The crew of the Moon Siren intended to make the enemy force pay for their criminal conduct.
My mana was down by half, so I took a moment to chug down a pair of my strongest mana potions. Even though I had plenty of mana, I didn’t want to risk my aegis falling as I charged forward to my companions.
A shout of outrage and fury, unlike anything yet heard on the battlefield, peeled out from the pirate’s vessel deck. Near a railing, I sought to find out what had created such a powerful bellow. Previously empty planks now had friendly feet clattering to counterattack upon the supposedly ruined ship. My party screen flashed a warning, and I watched Lowki’s health pool drop to dangerous levels. An icon appeared near his name which looked like a paw with a line crossing through it.
An idea blasted into my consciousness. Hoping it could work, although I couldn’t see my feline companion, I used the party list to target and quickly cast my regeneration spell upon him. My spell hadn’t fizzled, so I knew it had been successful. Turning my attention to the enemy’s deck, I found the source of the roar. He was a giant of a man, half-man actually. The other ‘half’ of his horrid, disgusting body reminded me of the troll we killed days back, though this one must have had a part giant in its ancestry.
His skin was scraggy and pot-marked as if boils had long ago burst from beneath his rough flesh. Above his nameplate, the System proudly announced him as, ‘The Pirate King.’ Below, what could only be considered a boss monster, his nameplate identified him as Weatherly, ‘the Fierce,’ Gnawbone. My inspection of the half-giant, half-troll identified him as being level nineteen. The monstrosity of a man likely didn’t have a single point of charisma, his visage was so atrocious.
Seeing the giant man standing twice the height of his brigands, I was reminded of a movie scene with a brawny king standing before a Persian ‘god-king,’ the size disparity contrasted so intensely between the two powerful men. “You, mage,” the pirate king called out to me with a gnarled finger pointing accursedly in my direction. “I challenge you to a duel to the death.” When I didn’t immediately respond, he pressed his supposed advantage further, thinking me intimidated, “Or, are you too afraid?”
Gnawbone’s men, what was left of them, cheered across both decks, bloodied weapons thrust overhead. Weatherly’s confident laugh sounded like a grating rockslide when I made no response to his lethal challenge.
Stepping upon the wooden plank, I brandished Frostrend. The gauntlet had been thrown at my feet and I had just picked it up. All other battles ceased, every pair of eyes turning to us. Budding, twisted lightning thickened across my axe, growing brighter by the second. Gnawbone only smiled.
The pirate king wore a sleeveless shirt, his oversized arms signifying how much strength the man had heavily invested in. Weatherly’s face was scared and battered from untold battles. One of his two tucks, jutting over his lower lip, was broken off, now just a nub of its former glory. His nose was bent, going slightly to the left, and one of his eyes was shot through with blood. Though, whether it was a result of a recent battle or if it always appeared that way, I couldn’t tell.
Weatherly colossal hands on his hips, a superior grin upon his revolting face. As I stepped lightly onto the deck, I noticed a many-notched curving blade, half as long as I was tall, hanging on his right hip. On my left hip, was something I had not expected to see in this world. Of all the pirates we had fought tooth and nail, not one had a similar weapon the pirate king had dangling in a belt loop. Given all of this, it still looked out of place.
It was a single-shot, flintlock pistol. Even at this distance, the wood was stained dark, carrying a fine polish in the morning light. The lock, breech, and trigger looked to be coated in gold filigree. The weapon looked magnificent to say the least. “They have guns?” I asked out the side of my mouth, knowing Stella was a step behind me.
“Not many,” Stella replied. “That’s probably the only one around for hundreds of miles. They are so rare, that I didn’t think to mention them. Plus, that one also looks magical to boot. So, be wary. It can most certainly pack a punch.”
My steps nearly faulted when she continued, barely above a whisper, “Just wait until later worlds when blaster pistols become a thing.”
Ignoring the comment, I angled myself on the far end of the ship away from the half-troll, my eyes never leaving his confident expression. The remaining pirates and sailors of the Moon Siren stepped back giving us a clear path to one another. I wanted to have as much distance between us before it started. Weatherly certainly understood this, having called me out as a mage, but his outward expression remained steadfast.
When I finally pivoted, the long wooden deck sprawled between us, I attempted to glean some information about my foe and his magnificent-looking pistol. Stella had said it was magical so I was hoping to know what I was dealing with. My mana had been slowly refilling as I walked over, the twin mana potions helping speed along the process. Noticing I was no longer in combat, I casually pulled a water skin from my inventory and drank it. To anyone but a Hunter, it would look like I was only taking a simple drink before combat. As a Hunter though, my mana pool began rapidly refilling. By the time combat started, I would have full mana and, therefore, a full Empowered Aegis.
Triggering inspect, I stared across the space to my foe.
Weatherly, ‘the Fierce,’ Gnawbone, Mongrel Troll Cutlass (Level 19 - Rare Boss). Mongrel Trolls are the ugly, often isolated, offshoots of the troll and giant races. After centuries of inbreeding, what you see standing before you represents one of the most unappealing creatures this planet has to offer. But, don’t let its repulsive nature fool you. For what the Mongrel Troll’s body gave up in Charisma, it makes up for with additional Strength and Constitution. Never able to have more than a single point of Charisma, this is a foe worth turning tail while you still can. Good luck, Hunter.
Next, I inspected his gold-plated pistol.
{Crescent-Moon Flintlock Dueling Pistol}. This flintlock pistol is one of a pair of magically enchanted flintlocks specifically created for dueling. Combatants stand back-to-back before walking forward ten paces to then face one another. The fury of the weapons then thunders out across the distance like an avalanche.
Unlike mundane flintlock pistols, which are exceedingly rare in a Prime World, this weapon does not have the slight delay normally associated with it. Like a mundane flintlocks, however, these beauties back one hell of a punch. Note - This enchanted weapon will automatically reload itself after a short amount of time. Further, this weapon is capable of piercing most magical and non-magical means of defense.
Come what may, there was no turning back now.
The pistol was worrisome and complicated things. Upon first seeing it, I figured I would have to contend with a single shot of the no-doubt hard-hitting bullet, but it would have to contend with my soon-to-be fully powered Aegis with my mana seconds away from maxing out. Now though, the previously seemingly impervious shield may not be capable of stopping the shot. Thankfully, I still had a significant health pool, but I would need to ensure I avoided the incoming shot as much as I could. Worse yet, with the weapon’s ability to reload automatically, it posed an even larger problem as our soon-to-commence battle began.
Staring each other down, I was out of time for more consideration. A game plan formed in my mind, I could only hope it worked. Before Weatherly moved from my inaction, I shouted, my voice reaching to every onlooker, “You wouldn’t happen to have another magnificent pistol that I could use in our dual, would you?” While everyone stared on with bated breath, the sound of the passing river, the creak of strained beams, and even the soft rippling of the sail above reached my ears. My heart began pumping furiously in my chest, far more than even in the engaging battle from minutes earlier.
Weatherly grinned and grasped his pistol, bringing it down to his side, “I think not.”
An advantage I held, unknown to the pirate king, was my invisible aegis. Hoping it would protect me from the initial volley. What I hadn’t counted on was a nearby pirate lunging for my back, a wickedly serrated dagger aimed straight for a kidney. My attention was diverted for a crucial instant as I felt the dagger slam against my Aegis. It still felt like I had been hit with a hammer but all of the damage had been negated. I backhanded the jackass with the flat of my axe, sending him sprawling to the deck. Lowki, having had slowly moved nearby, his illusion projecting him on several paces from where he really prowled, pounced on the fool. A throaty growl sounded from my companion as he lunged his head downward, aiming at the man’s neck.
In my moment of inattention, the half-giant raised his pistol and fired. As he did, my only saving grace had been the slight rock of the ship when Lowki had landed. His aim no longer centered on my chest, the unyielding bullet slammed through my aegis, landing with a heavy smack into my left arm. The impact felt like a hundred-ton boulder had crashed into me. Unknown in the moment, my protective shield had bled away some of the steep damage as the bullet passed through effortlessly. Without my aegis, my arm would have been ruined. In addition, had Lowki not caused me to stumble, the bullet may have proved lethal with how practiced of a shot the boss had.
As it was, the force of the impact sent me spinning to the deck. I saw my mana drop nearly one thousand points from the single attack. The damage, though, was nothing compared to the crushing blow which spread across my arm. While the Aegis prevented actual damage from reaching me, it did nothing to stop the raw force of the blow. My arm was numb and not responding to my mental bidding.
My mind couldn’t make sense of it as I hurried back to my feet, hindered by the inability to use one arm. The impact of a single bullet, regardless of it being magical in nature, shouldn’t have caused this much force to be exerted. It was the only thing that made sense. In the second it took to stand up, it was like the defensive barrier had somehow amplified the physical sensation of the attack. Maybe it was how the potent ability was balanced out by the System. Significant damage could be absorbed through my mana pool with the aegis, though the ‘punch’ of the attack hit harder than it otherwise would.
Reaching my feet, I worked to reorient onto the Mongrel Troll. Panic was racing through me as I had expected the boss to take advantage of my plight by charging headlong towards me. It was not what I saw.
Thinking me surely dead from an attack that had likely killed countless foes in these kinds of ‘duels.’ Weatherly saw no need to rush forward to bury me beneath the weight of his trusty backup weapon, his curved saber. As our eyes locked, both of us hadn’t been expecting the state of the other.
My turn, I thought.
Like I had done it a thousand times, the fingers on my right hand spun through the necessary gestures for my trademark spell, lesser boil blood. It landed as the pirate king made a guttural road and charged. With precious feet between us, I got one more spell off before he reached me.
Back-to-back, Weatherly was infected with Boil Blood and Arrested Affliction. The agony on his face showed how damaging my two spells were. In one hand the boss held his spent, though recharging pistol, the other holding a massive cutlass. Weatherly’s rapid pace carried in front of me, his sword swinging at neck height in an attempt to decapitate me.
The attack missed as I dodged aside, ducking my head low. Weatherly’s momentum carried him beyond where I had been standing before he could halt his change. He slammed heavily into the bulky railing of his ship. I had time enough to land another pair of spells before I could dance away no longer.