As Cirina and her crew watched Jimbo get thrown around helplessly on the end of a tree-like wooden maul, the other pirates were emboldened. They would get thrown away only to crawl back twice as mad. The way their disorganized ranks kept rising and falling, only to rise again was not dissimilar to fighting a necromancer.
There was no such sorcery at play—this much Cira knew. But fending off an army by slapping the shit out of them could only get one so far. By the time they were good and beaten up, their friends had recovered enough to rejoin the fight, creating an endless cycle of half-dead drunks slowly engulfing Cirina’s crew. Was this the true nature of the Black Scourge?
This left Cira with little choice. She’d been holding her own just fine, but even with her help it was beginning to be too much for James and the boys. Jimbo’s mortal cry echoed from one side of the chamber to the next as he was swung to and fro. Reluctant to let go, he still knew it would take but one slap against the ground to find the end of ol’ Jimbo.
Cira knew this too, but she also knew she had to make an example here or the battle would never end. It was time for the Black Scourge to understand who they stood against. Drawing the attention of most everyone in the cave, the Salty Songstress started moving, grinding through the salt. Delilah was alarmed and could be seen shrinking back inside her bubble, holding her crossbow out timidly.
A large barrel had formed on the side of the hull and by the time it hollowed out and anyone realized what it was, a loud bang shook every pirate in their boots. When a white object flashed through the air, it was already too late. A cloud of salt seeped from the barrel like gun smoke while the heavy salt projectile hit the giant square in its chest. The cracking of bones could be heard as it groaned, stumbling back.
It dropped the maul which shook the room as it hit the ground. Jimbo ended up splayed on the ground, but avoided being crushed. He rolled over and got up with shock painted on his face, scanning the room before his eyes met with the giant’s again. Standing back up, it towered over Jimbo like he was a small woodland critter.
Unbridled rage filled its eyes, stoking a war cry before getting mercilessly cut off—
Bang!
Another salt cannonball smashed into the giant’s shoulder. His arm went limp and he groaned, finally tumbling to the floor. The crash was loud enough to rattle every pirate in the room, friend or foe. Not a single person could move. Jimbo scuttled his way back over and offered his thanks before pulling his drink back out of her airspace.
Now the Black Scourge Pirates were meek, losing the will to fight. The room was almost silent except for the extra jangly chains Cira conjured to wrap around the giant. A couple quick cannonballs to their biggest guy had once again struck fear back where it belonged—the hearts of her enemies. Most of them fighting James and the others had begun to slowly back away. As the battlefield seemed to shift, Cira was able to track down her target again. He was pressed against a wall with his eyes glued open, trying to shrink behind one of his girls.
“I won’t say this again, Don. I’m only going easy on your men because this can still be settled if we cross blades.” She pointed her blade to him again with a cold look, “It’s up to you.”
The Black Scourge Pirates were discouraged and many of them couldn’t get back up anymore. Still, some found courage and threw themselves fruitlessly at Cira’s crew who had become increasingly confident. Anyone who approached was quickly repelled by the swashbuckling clump of drunks. When Cira looked back she met worried eyes with Delilah. Her crossbow was knocked and ready but hadn’t been fired off yet.
It was mainly for self-defense and was the real deal. If anyone could bust through her barrier to attack Delilah, she was more than welcome to shoot them in the face. Rather than fear for her own life however, she watched Cira with concern throughout the whole battle.
Even the most dedicated pirates started to slow down as they took notice of Cira’s challenge. If the captains of two crews agreed to a duel, it was expected for the fighting to cease until a winner was declared. Alternatively, Don could deny the challenge, and assuming at least one side was aggressive, the battle would continue.
“Just who the hell do you think you are?!” An irate woman with a scrawny, exposed chest approached Cira holding a sponge in one hand. “Do you even know who Don is?”
Cira looked down at her with confusion, “More importantly, who are you? Put some clothes on if you want to fight—”
Splat!
A wet sponge squelched against Cira’s face, triggering a bright light and instant explosion of mist.
“Even without my Pirate Barrier, I don’t know what you hoped to accom—”
“Shut up!” She spat and Cira sidestepped it, “You’re not so tough!”
“Tougher than your captain if he won’t agree to this duel.” The sponge maiden puffed up but couldn’t say anything further after that. The other two topless ones didn’t have half the spirit and huddled behind Don, trying to push him onward with encouraging words.
“Come on Don, you can do it!”
“We all believe in you, Donny!”
“Grrrrah! Fine, then!” He took a few steps forward, pulling the scabbard off his sword and throwing it to the ground, “Men, stand down! Yer captain’s been challenged…”
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Cira wasn’t sure where he found the gusto after watching that battle, but he walked toward her semi-menacingly with his freshly cleaned beard and black eye. She had to admit, his stature was imposing, but that was all he had going for him. She hadn’t noticed after comparing him to Milty’s doorman, so it didn’t have much impact here either. He was also limping and holding his side from the stab wounds.
His men had all gathered around, an audience of more than a hundred bruised pirates, and even Juan picked himself up to spectate intently.
“You can do it, Donny!” His maidens had utmost faith for some reason, even after witnessing the effortless siege. Half of Don’s men lay bruised and bloodied, staining the salt with the sweet juices of combat, the whole chamber lit in the overbearing scarlet light of Cira’s treasure. It stretched up a whole wall and was easily the size of Cira’s house. Not Breeze haven, just the house.
Its effulgence pulsed with a dull, eerie hint of mana. It glinted off Don’s blade as he held it in front of Cira, voice quivering, “A-alright, you’re goin’ down!”
Don began with a quick jab which Cira parried. She let go of her glass again and let it float behind her before countering with a fist to his face. He yelped and stumbled back, spitting out a tooth.
“That was a fluke!” A woman cried.
Cira cleaved at him from the left and knocked his blade away. She’d removed all the fun effects from her own to make it a fair fight, so the meager resistance came as a surprise, “This isn’t all you’ve got, is it?”
She looked at him with disappointment as he scrambled to pick it up off the ground. His men all gasped, shouting words of disbelief at their captain being so swiftly disarmed. “You bitch…” Don growled, running at her low with his blade held back. Cira took his assault casually and when his blade swung up, she simply turned her own a little to deflect it.
I’m not even a swordsman! She couldn’t say that, I even took on handicaps for him, so why is this man so weak? She’d trained lightly with a sword over the years, but it was infrequent, and she never took it seriously. Her father always said a novice could beat the world’s greatest swordsman if they were fast enough. Of course, there were some nuances to that, but Cira found no amount of wisdom, skill, nor speed to be necessary here.
In truth, it was a huge letdown. Cirina staged a grand raid for her maiden voyage, and a hundred pirates hardly posed a threat to a handful of random drunks she found at the bar. They may have had enhanced weapons and shields, but they’d also had their weight in ale. This Don guy was a joke. It was a wonder he ever got to be captain. Cira just slumped her shoulders and sighed.
With a scoff, Don furrowed his brow, “The hell’s that look for?”
“I find you to be monumentally disappointing.” With a single step she closed the ten or so feet between them and delivered an open palm to the solar plexus, remembering that old merchant’s words from the trading post.
Only wannabe pirates to be found along the Noose, huh? Jimbo Sticks isn’t bad, but this one’s just pathetic. From Cira’s palm an explosion of water sent Don flying right past his sponge maidens and into the hard salt wall, leaving a trail of blood as he slid to the floor.
Aaaand Spatial Sense. Aaaaand he’s alive. Cira turned to the topless women with a scowl and they shrunk back, then she shared her gaze with the fifty some-odd mostly conscious pirates of the Black Scourge. They all dropped their weapons and scattered like rats toward the different passages, banging on their sealed openings. Some were about to dive in and start swimming down the deritium river.
“STOP!” Cira threw her voice with wind magic. They froze, many tumbling over.
In the short silence that followed, Jimbo raised his ale, followed by the rest of her crew, and cheered, “Cirina Dreadheart wins! All your lives belong to her, so don’t even think about runnin’!”
A little harsher than Cira would have put it, “So I won,” she spoke to the one-legged man next to her, “Do they give me all their treasure or something?”
“Pah!” He slapped her on the shoulder, “It’s already yours! Your new crew—yer lookin’ at em. I think Don’s got a ship out past the worm farms, too.”
“Interesting…” She put a hand to her chin and pondered while scores of men watched with baited breath. A flick of the saber brought Don’s hat off the ground. It floated over to them before landing on Jimbo’s head. “Consider it yours, along with all these scoundrels. I only need them once.”
A ship too large to land inside Breeze Haven was useless to her. But a friend with a big boat could be useful in the future.
Don’s pirates had mixed expressions that were mostly outrage, but a few seemed happy about the turnover. A distinct few were disappointed that it wouldn’t be the illustrious Captain Dreadheart, but she ignored them all equally.
“Wha-“ his eyes glazed over with confusion, “You can’t mean—!”
“Hey!” James approached, with the rest of her founding crewmates in tow, “Why’s he get it, I’m his captain!”
“I hate to say it, James, but this man is twice the pirate you’ll ever be.” He deflated, “some men are just cut from a less soiled cloth.”
“Wait, are you callin’ me—” Jimbo started.
“Just become part of his fleet,” Cira innocently suggested. That’s a solid pirate suggestion. Good job, Cira. Jimbo’s in my fleet, while James is in his. It’s just fleets all the way down. She smiled to herself.
James wore a complicated expression, whereas Shirtless Joe pat his back, “Ya can’t beat the tides, James. Just go with the flow.” The words weren’t exactly comforting.
“Cirina!” Delilah ran up distressed and grab a hand in both of hers, “Are you alright?!”
She looked at all the places Cira was slashed or stabbed. Despite the bright flash of each impact hitting her barrier, it seemed Delilah wouldn’t be satisfied until she checked.
“I’m fine, Lorelai, don’t you worry.” She pat her on the head, which elicited an awkward reaction.
“Don’t ever leave me like that again… Surely I could have been more help than those two?” The girl pointed at Cira’s nameless goons, but her voice was stern, “Why are you so reckless?!”
“I feel like I’m hearing that a lot lately…” It seemed the scolding would end there after Cira received a pointed look.
“So, is this it?” Delilah’s eyes sparkled scarlet, “Is this really causing—”
Cira hushed her with a finger to the lip, glancing around, “Shhhh…. I’ll get to everything later.”
The other men quibbled over Don’s legacy, but Cira had her prize. Now that she’d seen the deritium with her very own eyes, everything was in place. There was a lot riding on this, but she was able to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. A real one for the first time in days. The sorcerer knew all of her plans were now possible.
Cira was smiling and plucked her drink from the air to celebrate when a wet slap hit her face. Frozen with her mug raised high, she turned her head in shock to see that fiery woman with the thin arms and flat chest. She prepared to launch into a tirade, “Y-you bitch!”
Putting a palm to her cheek, Cira’s face folded into the universal ‘who the fu—' gesture. It didn’t hurt, but she could feel it, such was the nature of a true sorcerer’s barrier. Her eyes pierced the girl’s soul, and she took a half-step back.
“You… you can’t just waltz in here and! And…” the sponge maiden's words trailed off as Cira’s shimmering green eyes bored ever deeper.