9

Black Sails, Red Flags

The suns had not yet come up over the horizon and Tory was still on watch duty. His turn would end with the suns' appearance and he would then attempt to sneak away for a quick nap.

If he could do so without being seen by Felicia that was.

The crew had left Brewood not two days before in the middle of a riot about the price of grain. More expensive food was becoming a problem in the kingdom of Darrion. The spring had not brought the expected crops and many cities were beginning to see a rise in the price of basic necessities.

Once Felicia understood the nature of what was happening, she had ordered them all aboard the ship. They were sailing within the hour. Such a quick departure had meant no sleep for most of the crew.

Tory was exhausted.

Sailing from city to city in Darrion was not an especially difficult task. Many ships passed from city to city and they were often met with the cries of greeting from other sailors.

Gorplin was still in a grouchy mood from the fight at the inn and, of course, wasn't being encouraged to give it up due to Tory. He was trying his best to egg on the dwarf.

Not getting a good night's rest on a solid surface had been quite the blow.

“Couldn't keep your big mouth shut, eh shorty?” Tory badgered him.

Gorplin merely grunted. Whether by fortune or Felicia's desire to not have them cause bad moods in the rest of her crew, they had been assigned watch during the same hours for the last few nights.

“Nope,” Tory continued, needing no answer to keep up his banter. “Just like a dwarf to go running his mouth and getting his pride hurt when it would be better for us all to...”

The punch hit Tory so hard in his gut that he nearly retched out into the sea. He fell back, sprawling on the deck of the upper level where they had been standing for hours.

Air rushed back into his lungs as he coughed and spluttered.

Gorplin made no attempt to get on top of him and beat him further. He just stood over him. Watchful.

“Bah,” he said, looking down in disgust. “What do you know about pride?”

"What's gotten into you?" Tory said as he lifted himself off of the deck and onto his feet, still coughing.

"Bah," Gorplin said as he turned back to look at the horizon. "I had adventures in my bones when we sailed away the first time." He said almost wistfully as Tory joined him back at the railing. His stomach was still tied up in knots from the punch and he held tightly onto the rail to steady himself.

"Something in me had said that we'd be finding what we were looking for sooner than this. I left all my kindred back on Ruyn. I wonder if that was the right choice?"

He tapped his hand on the railing several times before speaking again. The two suns were just beginning to be good for the horizon.

"Did I leave it all for nothing?" he asked painfully.

Tory thought for a moment before answering. It was the deepest thought he had ever heard come out of the dwarf's lips.

"Lots of us left a lot behind. Teresa left her throne. Wisym left her people. Jurgon and Jurrin left the only home they've ever known. I guess Ealrin's the only one without much to lose, seeing as he can't remember who the heck he is."

Tory was listening to the words he had been saying. It was true. Many of them had left the only life they had ever known and followed Holve on what so far had turned out to be a wild goose chase. They trusted him for sure, but how long would they go without answers?

"Bah," Gorplin said, without offering any more commentary.

Tory knew that meant that Gorplin didn't have anything else to add to the conversation or that he didn't have anything he wanted to commit to saying at the moment.

For a while they watched the suns come up.

"I think you should talk more, shorty," Tory said as the first rays of sunshine broke over the horizon.

The light cast into view a disturbing scene. Smoke rose over the horizon in exactly the same spot they were sailing for. Bestone was smoldering.

"Better wake up Felicia," Tory said.

It looked like the possibility of him getting a nap anytime soon was gone, just like the darkness around them.

The city was smoldering when the crew finally found a place to make port. Buildings and ships in the harbor were black with smoke and fire damage. A gray haze added to the morning fog. Not a soul was seen standing among the ashes.

"What a mess," Tory said as they began to walk down the streets. Their boots were covered in ash in just a few blocks and smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see too far ahead of them.

"Aye. The whole bloody thing is wrong," Felicia said. "A boat sailed past us two days ago and said they had left the day before that."

"Yesterday morning?" Jurrin offered.

"Bah," Gorplin said, kicking over a cart burnt and charred. "What is to be gained from finding out when? I'd rather know who!"

Arrows and freshly cut branches with sharp points littered the street.

“Looks like them Wood Walker elves were the ones who did all this!” Gorplin offered as he stooped down to observe one of the projectiles. "Branches for spears and stone arrows!"

Jurrin took it from the dwarf and looked at it closely.

“This smells freshly cut, Mister Gorplin” Jurrin observed. “Didn't that gentlemen a week ago say there were elves that didn't cut down a tree to save their own kin?”

“Well if not the wood elves then who?” Gorplin exclaimed, throwing down the arrow in frustration.

They had stopped in front of what must have been a shop of some sort. The entire front was burnt out and the contents of the store were ruined. Several barrels lay strewn into the street.

He kicked at a barrel chard by the flames, spilling its contents out in front of them. The container was full of coins made of silver and brass: the currency of Darrion.

"Now here's a strange thing," Felicia said, observing the mess.

"Who burns a city to the ground and doesn't take any of the loot?" she said as she bent down to grab a coin out of the pile.

"Tell them thanks for from us," Tory said as he bent down and stuffed a handful of the coins into his pocket.

"Best put that down," came a voice from behind the shop. "Wouldn't want someone to think you've been looting and pillaging."

The party turned quickly and drew their weapons. Some of the coins Tory was stuffing into his pockets fell to the ground with a loud ringing.

Ax, sword, and dagger were all pointed at a man who stood lazily with his hands in his pocket. He was leaning against the remains of the store with a calm demeanor. It was as if he were oblivious to the destruction around them. Or as if he didn't care.

"Well aren't you a motley crew," he said, undeterred by their weapons pointing at him. His eyes looked from Gorplin to Jurrin, Urt, Tory, and finally to Felicia.

"What a hodgepodge," he observed, clicking his tongue. He shook his head and kicked out a rock by his foot.

He was black haired and handsome. Tory thought he was a hand width or two taller than he was but less broad.

"You're one to talk," Tory said looking around. "Who spends their time strolling along a ruined city?"

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"I've got no plans and no worries," he said with an air of bravado. "You on the other hand, are about to experience a boat load of trouble. "

Felicia stepped up to him and pointed her sword at his chest.

"I don't take kindly to threats," she said menacingly.

He shrugged his shoulders again.

"It's no threat. Just look behind you," he said motioning with a nod of his head.

Felicia kept her blade pointed at the stranger, but the rest of their party looked over their shoulders.

"That's more than a boat load of trouble," Gorplin said as he looked out to the docks.

"Seems like three boatloads," Tory observed.

Three ships with black sails and red flags were speeding their way towards the remains of the city.

Leaving the stranger and fleeing towards their vessel, the crew and Tory flew down the street.

“I'd rather fight on a ship than on land any day!” Felicia was shouting.

“Begging your pardon, mam,” Jurrin was managing to huff through gulps of air. “But I’d rather avoid a fight if we can!”

Tory knew the halfling wasn't a great fighter, nor exceptionally great at speaking. Jurrin was great company, but what they were going to need soon was great skill at arms.

Or least a good wind in their sails.

Jumping over piles of rubble that had once been shops or houses, they made their way to the docks.

“Looks like we'll beat them to the ship!” Gorplin shouted.

“But will we be able to get out of the harbor?” Tory asked, nearly tripping over an overturned cart.

“Quit yapping and run faster!” Felicia ordered and sped up her pace.

The company had reached the edge of the dock when the first ball of fire shot at them. The cannonball flew over their heads and smashed into the remains of a shop. The building crumbled down in on itself.

“What was that!?” Jurrin screamed through the rumble of another cannon blast.

“The same thing we're gonna send back at them once we're on board!" Felicia answered. "Up the ramp you lot!”

The ramp echoed with the sounds of their footprints as they rushed up to the ship's deck.

Felicia ran to the wheel and began barking orders.

“Unlash the anchors! Let loose the sails! Urt! Get those cannons loaded!”

The crew began working furiously to obey her commands, knowing that she had the best knowledge of the ship and that any order she gave at the moment could very well save their lives.

With the strength and reflexes of his race, Urt began loading the ship's two cannons and pivoting them to face the oncoming ships. It was not a matter of being outgunned. Tory knew full well if they stuck around that their ship would end up at the bottom of the bay. But what they were trying to attempt now was an escape with as minimal damage and injury as possible.

"We'll never make it!" Tory said even as he let loose another sail.

"More work! Less complaints!" Felicia shouted as she turned the steering wheel hard to point them away from their attackers.

"Jurrin! Fire!" Urt shouted at the halfling scrambling around on the deck.

Jurrin was holding a small metal stick with a flaming wick on the end of it. How he had managed to light it was beyond Tory.

"Heavens preserve us!" he was shouting wildly as another cannonball flew overhead.

The approaching ships were homing in on the vessel that was slowly sailing away from Bestone.

"You've fought demons!" Gorplin shouted as he wrested the flame from Jurrin and tossed it to Urt. "Get yourself together!"

Urt deftly lit the two canons and they resounded with a deafening blast.

Finally, Tory thought. They were fighting back.

One of the canons hit a rear mast of the first vessel. The other put a hole in their sail.

"Lower and to the left!" Tory shouted at Urt.

As soon as he heard Urt's growling response, he immediately wished he hadn't. The irate stare of the wild skirlx was not a welcome sight. Their ship was gaining speed as the wind was beginning to pick up. Tory could distinctly smell smoke and fire on the breeze.

Suddenly, two vessels broke off and began sailing north while the other continued to chase after them.

"They're giving up!" Tory shouted to Gorplin.

At that exact moment another cannon ball grazed one of their masts and rocked the boat.

"No," Felicia replied. "They think they've won!"

It was true. Tory looked to the ship that was heading for them and saw that on its deck were several menacing looking crewmembers.

From this distance, it was hard to tell what race they were but their swords and daggers were quite clearly showing that they meant business.

“We won't be able to out sail them!” Felicia shouted over the cannon fire. “Prepare to fight!”

Gorplin drew his second axe and shouted dwarven curses at the approaching vessel. Tory thought he recognized a few.

He drew his own blade and steeled himself for being boarded. At his side, Jurrin's legs quivered but he held the dagger that he had brought back from his travels with Gorplin tightly in his hand.

“Make good use of that blade, Jurrin,” Tory said as the ship began to pull up even with them. Elves, he could now tell, were making ready to throw grappling hooks onto their ship.

Urt let another blast of the cannons go before taking up his own unique blade.

“I've never had to fight someone who wasn't a demon, Mister Tory,” he quaked. “A demon here or there, sure. But I've never killed a man or something that looked like one.”

Tory could understand his hesitation, but he also knew this was not the time for mercy if none was to be given them.

“If all you do is defend yourself and those you call friends,” Tory said as the first hooks flew at them from the enemy ship. “No one can call you a monster.”

“Hostiles aboard!” Felicia shouted as ten elves with gleaming blades swung onto the deck.