After a quiet argument, Marko was the first to enter the tower’s second floor. They were only able to make one sound dampening artifact before, so he stepped up into the dark room carefully. It took a few seconds longer this time, but after looking around he motioned for everyone to follow.
The party was going on right below them as voices and laughter poured in the far window. There was a band outside playing string instruments and an off-tune flute. Cira walked cautiously but wasn’t too worried about being overheard. Their problem was light. They were low enough to alert Wick’s crew, so they had to rummage in the dark.
Moonlight glistened across the room to reveal racks of guns and swords hung up, but that wasn’t what they needed to find. Still, Cira signaled the others to start loading them up. They intended to leave this room perfectly empty after what they just witnessed above.
While the crew ransacked the place, Cira walked around until she found two doors. One of them undoubtedly led downstairs, and the other, she suspected, led to the valuable weapons. Lucky for her, it was not difficult to determine, as one had a bar across it with a poorly enchanted latch and the other was just a door.
Dammit, I knew I should have brought Rictor. Cira couldn’t melt it down herself without any mana, and breaking down the door would be much too loud. There were a few options here, but the least destructive method would be to ask for help
The shelves quickly cleared up as Cira paced around the room. Nothing special could be found in here at a glance, just guns of shoddy make and swords that had’t seen maintenance in years. Their edges chipped and dulled from countless battles, thrown against Wick’s enemies without concern for whether they may break.
Cira thought if this was any reflection of how he ran an island, everyone would be better off if he disappeared. Today was not the day for usurpation, however. Cira took a glance back out the window and saw her crew just piling weapons up in a corner against the cabin so they wouldn’t slide off. Below deck must have been full with all the disparaged women and children they acquired—a physical representation of the sorcerers’ burden.
They had apparently made good progress in five minutes or so, and she pulled Tawny away, “Hey, take a break.” She was inspecting a rifle that seemed to be made of rusted pipe and put it down when Cira called.
Among her artificer students, Tawny had shown the most talent. That also carried over to the act of dispelling enchantments. In most cases this was as simple as retracing the glyph backwards, Cira thought, but only Tawny seemed to have the steady hand to do so without triggering the artifact more often than not.
“What?” Tawny responded curtly as if she had something better to do. Cira brought her over to the locked door and asked if she thought she could get through it. “These enchantments… look easier than the ones on your staff was at least. I’ll need a few minutes.”
The staff had a few enchantments that needed to be removed to allow the functionality of a needle, and it took a few hours of hand holding before her students could even start carving new glyphs in, so a few minutes seemed doable. Cira walked away and followed the sounds of celebration to the far window to get a good idea of their surroundings.
The window was formed with an arch of white brick and Cira hid to one side, barely poking her head out to take in the scene below. The sprawling courtyard was a little larger than Breeze Haven and well-lit with torches and a massive bonfire in the center. The band brought lively rhythms to the atmosphere, but the fiddler looked a few tunes away from falling over. Their music had noticeably worsened even since Cira and the gang stopped outside the armory and from above, Cira could see their faces red as fresh tomatoes.
There were far too many pirates outside to count, nearly all of them dressed in black and gold, while a great many had already fallen over at some point earlier. Scattered around them were countless barrels with cheap wine or ale pooled beneath. Women ran around dressed like Olive when she found her bussing glasses back and forth, refilling and hastily returning them to Wick’s crew.
Among the inebriated masses there was a particular focal point Cira zeroes in on. A raised deck stood near the pyre with an ornate table and chairs sitting on it. A group of ten or so scantily clad women sat at the table surrounding one man. Let’s just say, it took a lot of willpower for Cira not to pull out her crossbow right then and there.
Her first thought was, that guy looks a lot like James… He had dirty blonde hair and the same chiseled jawline, like a caricature of a statue. James still had him beat in muscle, but this guy was no slouch. His mustache curled slightly and rested on a well-trimmed goatee while his face was red as any other, flushed out with all the wine and such he’d surely consumed.
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He wore an unmarred black and gold vest with matching trousers, but atop his head sat a golden crown. Captain Wick… he would be such an easy target right now. The man threw his head back and laughed boisterously, “Another!” He tossed an empty glass at one of the nearby women.
Of all the times to not have an aura, this one was particularly troubling. If Cira had it her way, she would hop out the window now and deliver a Sorcerer Punch right to the face. His pronounced jawline was practically asking for it.
Cira found her hand clenching the crossbow’s handle and relaxed it. Don’t get hasty, Cira… the bastard’s not going anywhere. But just taking his things doesn’t feel like enough. Isn’t there something else I can do?
“Hey,” She was startled out of her thoughts as tawny grabbed her arm. The girl glanced out the window and followed Cira’s gaze, “just what the hell are you planning to do?”
“I’m not sure yet…” Our exit is just as important as what we came here for. Starting anything now would be a bad idea.
“Well, your door’s open. Get your head in the game.” Tawny scoffed and headed into the next room.
Cira was irritated by that comment, but when she followed her, a bright smile came naturally. The room was smaller, but the walls were lined with staves of all make. Most were adorned with a catalyst at the top and Cira lost track trying to count all the different gemstones. Of course, it would be immoral to break any of these down without first making sure they had no owner aside from Captain Wick. Cira still couldn’t help but feel giddy at this prize. There was even a pile of artifacts on the ground Cira couldn’t wait to inspect.
She grabbed as many as she could as a bundle in her arms and walked stiffy back towards the ship. The guns had been cleaned out and the only swords left were bent and cracked, piled in the center. She passed Jimbo on her way as he came back in from outside, “Hey, you found ‘em!”
“Sure did.” Cira turned and nodded from behind her new staves, “Now make it quick.”
The rest of the crew finished their last loads of less important weapons and started swarming the next room over. They each came out with handfuls of staves or with their shirt held out like a bag stuffed with weaponized curios. Cira and Tawny both made trips too, and they took another ten minutes to empty the room down to nothing but dust on the floor.
Everyone had smiles on their faces as the last staff made it back to the ship and Cira marveled at the disorderly pile of weapons they had stolen. It was big enough to swim in if there weren’t so many sharp edges and points. It stood as high as her shoulders and was so wide she feared it would spill out once they got moving.
Cira then scanned over the deck and found a handful of rescued hostages grouped up. They avoided her eyes and shivered under her gaze. Cira felt the ship pull back and they started catching the wind to rise when one woman looked up, “C-Captain Dreadheart… w-what are you going to do with us?”
“Have we not already established you were rescued? I’ll probably ship you off to Green Pit or something for now.” They were relieved when Jimbo saved them but seemed to realize that their fate was ultimately in another’s grip. Cira didn’t appreciate being treated like some kind of Captain Wick type, but it couldn’t be helped.
“But my husband is still down there!” She looked fearfully toward the ground, “He thinks Wick still has me imprisoned!”
“Will you please quit shouting? What do you want me to hop down there and announce that I’ve freed you? We do anything else but escape, and everyone down there starts attacking us, your husband included.”
The woman’s face went pale, and Jimbo came back over to get in the middle, “Now, now, will all you relax? Dreadheart here didn’t even know you were up there and there will be plenty of time to talk about what comes next after we get the hell out of here. Got it?”
He looked between Cira and the group of frightened women who seemed to relax at his very presence. One didn’t seem ready to let it go, though, “But why would she do that? We know you, Jimbo, but we don’t know this girl! Why are you taking orders from her anyway?”
Cira shook her head with a grin, “Looks like you got this, Jimbo.” She turned around and headed towards the helm to keep Shores company.
They had risen almost halfway up the tower and peeled back to the hills, but this time they skirted around the palace to the South. Cira found some solace in that Wick’s celebration seemed to be going on unhindered below while she flew away with a boatload of his things, but still felt the indomitable itch of inaction. There was a moment she contemplated kicking off their exit with a well-place crossbow bolt, but at such a distance she could just as easily hit any one of ten women surrounding him. It wasn’t a smart move.
“Heya, Captain!” Shores looked at her with a smile—he seemed thrilled. “We sure made off tonight, huh?”
“Aye. That we did.” It could not be denied, and Cira was in a good mood too. They now had everything they needed to reforge her soul—all that left was going home to keep working. She returned his smile easily, “You ready to start the show?”
Sadly, they had to forgo stealth to make their escape. It wouldn’t be a perfect heist by all standards, but the operation had already met Cira’s criteria. They had loads of stuff and taking Wick’s hostages was sure to be a serious blow to any leverage he held.
It would be obvious that they came and stole everything. Even with no evidence, Wick would know she was the culprit with certainty. So, what would happen if they simply snuck off into the night?
The mediocre king would probably arrive at the truth that they were hidden out on the island. Perhaps a day or so would pass as they scoured Lost Cloud, but they would end up at Kuja’s. Leaving the woman who helped her so much alone to deny her involvement in the face of one of Wick’s execution squads wasn’t something Cira wanted to do and simply leaving it vacant could end in her village getting burned to the ground.
So, they intended to use a tried-and-true tactic to throw them off again. According to Wick’s diary, it should work for sure.
“Ready when you are.” Shores replied.
Cira nodded across the deck and Tawny deactivated their cloaking enchantments. As the unmasked ship faced the southern skies, her mages gathered all their magic to rain down upon the palace walls.