Port Salvage was reeling, the vicious inter pirate war had lasted a month and showed no signs of ending anytime soon. The bands of pirates were running short of resources and were – unbelievably – getting more vicious. By now virtually everyone that wasn’t associated with one of the pirate bands had left the parts of the city they controlled. Most had relocated to the former dock and commercial districts that were quickly being fortified, restored and expanded.
The newly named Seafront District was controlled by a triumvirate consisting of Daorn, a chandler who represented the former honest inhabitants of the district, Paris Wolfman, a newcomer who controlled a small but highly disciplined band of fighters and coordinated the districts defence and Feranna who represented the recent additions to the district from the rest of the town. This triumvirate bound themselves to listen to the concerns of a small freely elected council.
Paris was currently conferring with his friend Victoria in the hidden room beneath his shop.
“So the first shipment of food and goods will arrive within the week and your scouts are sure that the so called Sea Bastards will attack in force when they realize we have supplies?”
“Yes we’re sure of that. They’re hungry now and will soon be starving. Also any of those mobs that manages to gain control of this enclave will win this pointless war,” noted Victoria.
“Not pointless, give us another month and Port Salvage will be pirate free. Now how will we recognise our creator’s ship?”
“Mary said that the Wave Skimmer is a ‘three-masted Bermuda-rigged schooner’ so I would expect a three masted fast strange looking ship.”
“Well that’s some help, but what’s a schooner?”
“I don’t know, but I will soon,” Victoria grinned.
Paris lost no time in advising his fellow triumvirs of the expected arrival of the Wave Skimmer. Then he prepared his people for the expected invasion from the desperate pirates.
The Wave Skimmer was an eye opener; she came sailing into the harbour closer into the wind than anything Paris had previously seen with the exception of the man-rats catamarans. It was openly flying the blue-green flag with the white dolphin. The local stevedores muttered in appreciation mixed with disapproval for the unorthodox sail plan.
The Wave Skimmer was quickly unloaded and the goods for the most part disappeared into Paris Wolfman’s shop, the remainder of the cargo that according to the captain had been added to fill his ship was offered for sale on the quay and was quickly sold. The purser sat at a desk by the gangplank and took orders for delivery within the month. Several disgruntled locals booked passage to Drakoton.
The Wave Skimmer left on the tide, with all sail set she left harbour rapidly gaining speed with many passengers and ballast. Paris didn’t watch it go he was engaged in setting an ambush for the upcoming attack and setting a small party in place to take out the scout group from one of the larger and more organised bands. Thanks to Victoria and her spies and scouts he knew exactly what was planned but given the chaotic state of today’s enemies he didn’t fully trust them to follow their plan.
Fortunately everything went reasonably well, the new recruits with a thin sprinkling of veterans to stiffen them performed brilliantly from behind their barricades, firing their three loaded crossbows one after the other. The attack on the barricades broke as the pirates unused to take heavy casualties fell back only to be hit from behind by his well trained soldiers.
The Sea Bastards were crippled. Paris Wolfman decided to accept his army commander’s suggestion and allowed Major Samuel to lead his soldiers to finish the job and free the few prisoners the knew were being held by the Sea Bastards.
By the end of the day the Sea Bastards were no more, and the scouts from the Bloody Daggers had likewise been annihilated. Fifteen poor souls had been freed and the Seafront district had expanded.
The Seafront District celebrated quietly, contact with the outside world had been resumed and one of the more savage pirate bands had been destroyed.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
* * *
Sreecator and Zashaan had been able to persuade forty-three of the man-rats the dungeon had made available to serve Creevar, now came the problem of delivering them to a temple of Creevar without letting the whole world know they existed. Furthermore Creevar had vetoed Drakoton’s temple as a destination.
The dungeon’s Voice offered the use of the Sea Sprite and suggested Garonmouth as it was an occasional destination for that vessel. After a short discussion, Sreecator and Zashaan agreed as it solved most of the problems they could foresee.
On arrival in Garronmouth Zashaan remained with the man-rats whilst Sreecator headed to the local temple to ask the local High Priest’s help in Creevar’s name. High Priestess Vastirana immediately complied when she felt Creevar’s presence. A large luxurious curtained coach and four was sent to the harbour with two elaborately dressed underpriests who had been asking for a transfer. They were sent with the High Priestess’ blessing to Drakoton on the Sea Sprite while among all the confusion of unloading their mostly empty luggage the man-rats were smuggled abroad for the return trip to the temple.
Sreecator and Zashaan their mission done gratefully returned to base via the temple’s gates.
* * *
Meanwhile back in Drakoton a meeting was taking place in the mansion of Vinculus the Red, a much thinner and haggard looking Vinculus the Red. He was clearly not the leader of the group of seven cloaked and hooded beings sat around the table.
Currently the tubby looking male sat at the head of the table was in full flow, “... clearly we made a mistake in asking our good friend to assault the new dungeon but now we need to capture or kill it, please come up with plans on how to do this. We will discuss them in our next meeting in a week’s time ...” and he continued to drone on completely unaware of the small humanoid forms watching and listening in the rat runs behind the walls.
* * * INTERLUDE 1 * * *
The Fast Killers tribe slowly made its way south; they were joined by their allies the Bloody Spears. The combined tribes scouts probed ever southward, finding small pools and springs of water but never enough to settle.
Grraafgor was, once again the lucky scout. Now after two weeks of moving ever south the wind was fetching the news of an ample water supply to his sensitive nostrils. He barked for attention and Rrrofaar joined him on the barren ridge sniffing at the southern wind.
“Water, lots,” confirmed Rrrofaar. “Still far away, not able to get there and return on what water we have.”
“Return, tell our tribes then set up supply and go look,” suggested Grraafgor.
Both scouts hurried back north with their information.
* * * INTERLUDE 2 * * *
Dr Jones returned to his cubicle in the open plan office and started going through the mass of information he had available. The first thing to do he decided was to get in touch with his opposite number in Japan. It would be useful to have more information on the two victims that had manifested change while flying back to Tokyo from Hawaii. The quarantining of all the passengers and crew on arrival would not have gone unobserved.
A few phone calls later helped he was sure by the exercising of his halting Japanese he had Dr Iso Namura on the phone, a very excitable Iso Namura who kept on about two sisters that had turned into twin tailed Kitsunes. At least he managed to establish a proper protocol for future contacts.
He then booked a meeting room and gathered his staff. Those present were naturally sceptical of the data they had to work with but all agreed that there was a clear problem so they assigned duties and initiated all the standard protocols to investigate, contain and hopefully find a cure for the victims.
Then it was time and Dr Jones – somewhat worried – left for the airport in order to meet his wife and son.
As they drove home his worst fears were confirmed, well not his worst, Darren was unchanged but he was seeing blue screens. Darren was one of the affected and he was hallucinating.
* * *
It had been fun seeing papa and his new family, Jenny and Susie were alright she guessed, luckily mama would be the one taking them round the shops. How could anyone like shopping so much that they didn’t just home in on what they wanted buy and move on to more interesting thing. Lucky papa wanted a fish barbecue. Mary swung her jeep into her now habitual parking spot grabbed her things and headed for the beach.
She grinned ruefully, ‘yeah like standin’ for hours on the beach with rod in hand, well I’ll weird them with fishin’ an’ they can leave me baffled with whatever they like.’
Later when she swung her jeep onto the driveway at home her headlights illuminated a dark SUV parked outside her house. She thought nothing of it as she hopped out of her jeep and hauled her substantial catch out of the back, ‘wonder how they’ll like barbecued shark? Got to get this lot in the cooler.’
In the SUV agents Mandy Tremillio and Roy Muller stirred.
Mary had just stored her catch in the fish cooler when someone rang the front door bell. Remembering the SUV she fished out her phone even as she yelled “Coming!” and called Flip.
“Hey Flip, got visitors an’ a SUV, guess the feds are here.”
“Careful sis, call me after ‘K.”
“Will do.” Mary closed her phone and pocked it before opening the door.