91. Another Settlement Needs Your Help

Despite the headache I was certain I was in for, my mood was noticeably improved when we brought the money and started picking up our goods. The sentries opened the gate for me, but seemed more uncertain about it now with the entourage I had with me. As soon as my men were in though, it was a moot point.

Hali had put out a few fires before they developed into issues and everything was either waiting in bags or – like the yards of rope and timber – simply set aside for enough high-strength people to come around.

Trusting the logistics to my men, I grabbed the mayor’s son and asked for an introduction to his father. The lad was only too eager to comply.

We strolled to the center of the crisscrossing paths and I was reminded that this was an outpost, not a town with a designated city hall. The mayor was located at the inn, which was the crown jewel of the place whenever business was done anyway. The place’s development would be handicapped trying to work like that, but since it wasn’t a place that could level into a bigger town that didn’t matter anyway.

The mayor of the Tralni outpost was not the thinning innkeeper himself, but one of the inn’s rooms had been renovated into an office. The mayor invited his son in immediately, and showed surprise at seeing the group he was with.

“Why what’s this? Welcome! No one told me visitors had made it! Come in, come in!”

The man was a well-dressed administrator, which was fairly typical for ‘ruling’ positions in low-level areas. I judged him to be a businessman first and leader second, since we had first appeared as visitors hours ago and he hadn’t been informed – not the mark of someone with clear communication lines or who walked about much.

“Father,” the young lad said. “This is … he can help us with the Makon! I got a quest to enlist his help!”

“Indeed?” the man said, looking between his son and my scarred face. “My boy, what uh … what is the exact verbiage of your quest?”

The boy recited it instantly. “The Monster You Know: an opportunity for salvation from the Makon threatening your settlement has arrived! Convince them to assist for a multiplicative defensive bonus in the outpost.”

The boy beamed. His father’s eyes widened. I nearly facepalmed.

“That is what you were so excited about?” I asked.

“Y-yes?”

I gave the mayor a look. “A teachable moment, I imagine.”

He winced. “Yes. Lad, we’ll discuss this later. For now, please go lend your support to the scouts on the wall.”

The confused kid complied, and I recognized the mayor’s savvy. He immediately saw what his son did not: the quest had inferred the ‘opportunity for salvation’ was in dealing with a monster they didn’t know. Now that I was in the room with him, he sent his boy out of harm’s way and tried to have him let the local guard know what was going on without saying as much. It wouldn’t have worked dealing with anyone lacking scruples, but at least he was aiming for subtlety rather than belligerence.

“Good sir,” he said, moving from behind his desk and extending his hand. “My name is Mayor Leopold, current overseer of this outpost. May I ask who you are?”

I lowered my stats while I shook his hand. “Domenic Seaborn.”

His hand twitched. Other than that betrayal, he kept a remarkable poker face. “Indeed! I bid you welcome to our small haven. Please, what have you come for? And is there any merit to your potential aid in our crisis?”

“We came for supplies which we’ve already purchased, and to exterminate threatening monsters. No one seems to believe us when I say either objective.”

“Our little outpost used to see a lot of traffic bringing news, but all of it was filtered through drunken retellings and exaggerations. I’m afraid you have an unfortunate reputation around these waters, though I’m sure it’s been unjustly earned and will be remedied!”

A local politician. “I don’t know what stories you’ve heard, but I can only hope they’ve been exaggerated. I promise you, though, my goal by the time we depart is to have everyone here sharing positive news on my efforts!” There, that wasn’t a bad bit of political discourse, was it? Translated: I’ll help you, you help my reputation?

Don’t look to Hali, Domenic, she’ll just roll her eyes at the both of us.

“As for what I can do,” I went on. “I intend to find wherever the Makon are holed up and rain artillery on them.”

“Indeed?” he said, unconsciously dry-washing his hands. “Well you see, I received a follow-up to my son’s quest just now, as well as an advance alert that a settlement quest will be offered within the hour.”

I sighed. “You’re facing an imminent attack.”

He nodded. “Within 24 hours.”

“I understand the Makon like to attack in the dark, so probably less than that.” I ran my hands over my face. There went my plans for preemptive protection.  We couldn’t find the Makon’s home in that time, and even if we did there was a good chance their raiding party was already en route.

The mayor swallowed thickly. “So … less than 12 hours.”

“At least you got a settlement defense quest: I’m sure you know early warnings don’t always come. Everyone I’ve talked to despaired over there being no hope of holding out; is the situation really that bad for you?”

“Definitively. We faced previous raids against low numbers of Makon and sustained casualties each time, but my guard captain tells me those were only tests. If we barely held the line against half a dozen, what chance is there when there’s a hundred?”

“Highly doubt there’s that many,” I said absently. “They’d splinter or kill each other before growing bigger than a few dozen.”

His point remained: a few dozen would wipe out the outpost’s minimal defenses. Tralni was better protected by treaties than it was by walls.

“I’d like your guard captain to confer with me and my strategists. The best option I can think of would be for the outpost’s population to move to the protection of my ships while the settlement is attacked. We can make a defense and tomorrow morning everyone can return to rebuild … and I can see by your face that’s not going to happen.”

He gave a weak apologetic smile. “Your reputation, I’m afraid, includes devil’s bargains of all sorts. I couldn’t convince the people here to go to your ship, not in a few hours!”

I doubted he wanted to risk it himself; he’d be a weak advocate.

“Let’s have a discussion with the professional warriors, hmm? I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” People didn’t judge you for lies when they were optimistic.

Mayor Leopold walked with me and I picked up Gnar and Arnnaith before meeting with the guard captain. The grizzled man squinted at everyone and showed no reaction to my identity besides leaning over and spitting.

“You plan to chop us up and eat us?”

“No,” I replied. Anything but definitive answers seemed to invite suspicion the same way fairies did.

“Well then,” he rasped. “I reckon whatever you’re here for ain’t worse then what those sharkies plan.”

How pragmatic. Gnar rumbled in approval. Mayor Leopold faked a weak chuckle and looked at me funny.

“This is the map of the island?” I said rhetorically, gesturing at the display weighted down in the center of the room we occupied.

“Don’t it look like one?” the captain replied, earning himself an annoyed look from me and a chuckle from Gnar. My lieutenant at least had the grace to look abashed when I turned my glare on him. He cleared his throat.

“Which of your marks indicate the traps you placed around the walls?”

I let Gnar and Arnnaith tag team the guard captain. The man spoke at the speed of a jellyfish, but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d done as much as I’d expect someone in his position to do: which was the bare basics up until an emergency happened then string together whatever he could.

The mayor and I both stood back and watched. He was more surprised my advisors didn’t consult me than I was about him and his guard, but he was too cautious to ask me about it. Only when they had potential plans did Gnar turn towards me for my decision in how to allocate our men.

Since the residents of the outpost wouldn’t flee to my ships and there was no more defensible place on the island than this, they would hold here. The question was, where did I deploy my crew? As Gnar and Arnnaith put it, I had three basic options.

The first was to pull all the weaponry and crew from the ships to fortify the outpost. That was what conventional wisdom would dictate, there were many naval stories of wounded ships going to shore successfully making a stand. If I was part of a navy I’d be carrying out such an order right now.

I wasn’t going to do that. Everything I had was tailored to getting an edge on sea, and giving it up would be foolishness.

The second option was to pull out and leave the outpost to their own defense, while we provided artillery fire. I liked the thought, but we were all skeptical that there would be meaningful resistance to keep the Makon in our firing range. Once they were in the town, clear shots would be few and far between.

The third option was a mix of the two: supply enough warriors to man the defense here that the Makon would be kept at bay and in easy sight of our ballistae.

The mayor had naturally hoped for option one while my advisors wondered if I’d go for option two. If I thought it would have a greater impact, I might have. As it was, the last choice was the only viable defense. The devil was in the logistics.

“If you take 40 people in your warband that leaves 10 professionals each for the ships.” I told Gnar. “I’d prefer to split it half to the sea, half on land.”

“We need more warriors on the land to bear the brunt of the attack. I’d like to say every one of our crew is a match for a Makon toe-to-toe, but I haven’t seen them and from what Rhistel tells me we can’t. We need to have the professionals here.”

I sighed. “Very well, pick the 40 …”

“40 won’t do it either.” Arnnaith said. “40 is matching strength and assuming there will be casualties. I know you want to avoid any casualties at all, and unlikely as that is the way to do it is put all the professionals on shore and keep the skirmishers and non-professional fighters to protect the artillery.”

“The ships have their own form of protection, too.” Gnar said, forestalling my argument that pressure on the artillerists would remove their heavy support.

What my two brilliant strategists led me towards was the decision not to split forces between the Dark Raven and the Internment. The Raven was where the power was, and it was where my crew should be. It wasn’t like the Makon could commandeer or scuttle the hulk, so locking her up and leaving her out of the fight was for the best.

Drese would go with the warband to provide healing to my crew and the townsfolk for as necessary for as long as he could. Gnar would form the professional warriors under his warband to defend the outpost, with a few strategically placed archers in hiding outside of town.

Gnar cracked his knuckles. “Alright, we got the people assigned, now to put them to work improving the stepping-stones they call walls around here …”

Arnnaith returned with me. He could formulate plans, but lacked the offensive skills to carry them out. The mayor seemed torn between following Gnar who was rolling in the opposite direction with the laconic guard captain – already bellowing out orders to my men and townsfolk alike – and following me. He went after me.

“Ah, so the defense of the outpost seems assured?”

“The defense of the outpost is happening. I am not in the business of assuring victory.” Realizing my answer was a bit brusque because I was preoccupied with my men’s safety, I added “though the capabilities of my men are top-notch.”

“Right, right.” He continued to obliquely attempt to find out when we had in fact made a deal and what price he was now on the hook for until we approached the main gate.

The truth was my price was propaganda. We were marketing ourselves. No longer were we attacking civilian trading ships, now we were the protectors of a civilian supply depot. I didn’t trust myself to convey that to the mayor without seeming nefarious, however, so I proceeded with the defense and hoped that my altruism would be apparent in the stories.

Optimistic. In reality I’d need mass government propaganda and indoctrination to convince the world I had a good heart after the mistakes I’d made. Lacking that, I’d go for the same kind of treatment people gave fairies: hopeful cautiousness. Seriously, we had hundreds of cautionary stories about making deals with fairies and still every year people went off and found more firsthand source material. If I could have that kind of reputation, I’d be content.

Before my crew had been co-opted for settlement defense, they’d gotten the supplies I’d bought carted out of town. Thinking that our welcome could expire very fast, they’d actually gotten all the goods out of town a ways and then started carting things to the ship. I was watching the end of the train pack up: men with strength of at least 30 all shouldering timbers that without such an impressive tally of stats needed mechanical advantage to move.

“Mr. Seaborn,” the mayor said, and I realized he had no intention of stepping past the gates of his domain. He extended his hand to me once again. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what comes tomorrow, but you’ve given us all hope for today.”

I took his grip. “Poetic words – you should turn them to convincing your people to take shelter. I’ll be keeping a lookout; if in the next three hours I see a colored flag being waved from the island’s peak, I’ll know to expect someone coming for sanctuary. At an hour to dusk I set sail though.”

“I’ll pass the word,” he assured me with a smile that made me think I wouldn’t be seeing any sort of signal.

As I followed my crew down towards the ships, Hali handed me my blunted sword. “We’ll work on your PR skills someday.”

In the hours before dusk fell, we made our preparations.

Supplies were divided between the two ships and the Internment was prepped for her non-role in the coming fight. Everyone who would participate in Gnar’s warband was sent back up to the outpost, among them an unexpected addition.

“Captain, it could be an incredible opportunity!” Rhistel said.

“Are you hoping their humanoid enough to be rational or monstrous enough for your perk to help?”

“No one has tried communicating with Makon in years, it just isn’t done. We could change things.”

“There is a reason people stopped trying, Rhistel.”

“The main strength of our fighting forces will be present – I couldn’t ask for a safer opportunity!”

“And yet you’re asking to stand in front of all the blades and pointy bits to try and get everyone to calm down,” I sighed and ran my hand over my face. “Alright, Rhistel, go. We both know I’m not going to keep you from trying. Just promise me you’ll go to ground when things inevitably don’t work?”

“They may just surprise you, Captain.”

“Yeah, well, so long as they don’t surprise you.”

I watched my crew wind up the side of the island and disappear out of sight before reaching the outpost. I glanced at the sun. It wasn’t long until we’d be making sail around to the front of the outpost, where we expected the attack to come from. There was still no signal from the island peak.

Blasted reputation … it would have been the best option. Of course, we would have inevitably run into the opposite problem of at least one person refusing to leave. At least the little community was all together on this.

“Is the Norsa Atsa still hiding?” Arnnaith asked me.

“Yes, it doesn’t look like our giant claw friend has any intention of giving us trouble.”

The half elf boy nodded seriously. “Good – that was in my top 5 list of things that could go wrong.”

“Do I want to know the others?”

“Makon herd some sea monster to the outpost as a distraction or battering ram; a powerful creature comes on its own; Makon switch target priorities to us instead of the outpost; the imperial ship returns unexpectedly …” he holds up the last finger on the hand he’d been counting on. “And Norsa Atsa gives us trouble.”

I nodded my head. I’d been worried about one of those: namely that we were going to wind up luring another monster into the area. Having a list rattled off … didn’t make me feel particularly assured of our victory. “I can at least keep an eye on the giant lobster and make sure any Makon don’t sneak up on us …”

“Captain,” Will interrupted. “Mr. Sadeo says you should take a look with your spyglass at the southern coast of the island.”

I pulled my spyglass from my bag and began to do so from the quarterdeck. “Tell me what Mr. Sadeo expects me to find?”

“Either the carcass of a shark, or a scout watching us, Captain.”

I scanned the rocky shore once without seeing anything, but on the second time my observation skill began humming and I zeroed in on the Makon scout. There was no question that’s what it was, though it’s pebbly gray skin blended in well to the rocks.

“Mr. Sadeo’s eyes are as keen as ever,” I murmured. “Though I thought that the Makon’s eyesight wasn’t supposed to be that good?”

“They only have to keep an eye on a couple of big ships,” Will said. “How hard can that be?”

“Would it really come just to keep an eye on us? Make sure we don’t interfere? That seems awfully strategic. What would they do if we did set sail, call off the attack?”

“We could give it a try!” Will said.

“They scout things they want to attack,” I said. “I’m sure we’ve become a target; my only question is whether it’ll be tomorrow after the raid or if they’ll try it … before we sail … now.”

Entering my Domain were a pair of Makon carrying tridents, swimming just above the silt of the bay bottom. Here came another pair. Another.

“Arnnaith, listen carefully. Signal Jack on the Internment, don’t have him swim back here now.” Even as I spoke I raised the hulk from where its main deck had been flush with the water line to its fully surfaced form. The Makon would have difficulty boarding that, but I did not want the crew I had working over there caught by the huge predators entering my Domain.

“Submerge the ship to take them on,” he suggested to me even as he fetched the hand flags from their chest and began signaling.

I approved of his suggestion. One of the issues with ships that I’d exploited was their limited ability to shoot downwards. We were now facing that same issue with an enemy who came at us from below. I submerged the ship to deny them that advantage.

“Will, inform Sadeo that we have at least six – no, eight, Makon approaching in pairs.”

As he scurried off I took a breath to yell at those I had on deck with fighting capabilities …

A concussive blast stunned us all.

As soon as I shook off the stun effect I cast an ice barrier around myself but saw no incoming projectiles or combatants. Shaking myself a little harder, I processed what I’d seen happen in my Domain.

The Makon were approaching along the bay floor, fanned out but all from the mouth of the bay. One pair had gotten close to Norsa Atsa … and the giant lobster had snapped one of its claws. It snapped its pincers! One snap, and it activated some ability that stunned my entire crew …

As well as the pair of unsuspecting Makon that were currently in the grips of its two forward pincers. I don’t think they were dead yet, but with a squeeze the lobster could crush even them, so yeah.

I was so glad we hadn’t tried to take that thing out with the warband earlier!

“Captain?” Arnnaith yelled to me, staggering to his feet. He had blood reddening the water by his right ear.

I reversed the course of the ship and brought it towards the surface again. “The sixth thing that could go wrong – or right: Makon come to scout us out and get wrecked by Norsa Atsa.”

He blinked, then gave a feral grin that I couldn’t help but wonder whether showed his human or his elvish side.

“Signal Jack that we’ll pick him up from the Internment. I see no reason to interrupt our friendly neighborhood crustacean.”

The Raven was a sight to behold – for anyone that could make her out in the dusky light as the sun’s last rays slipped below the horizon. We were approaching our position at the outpost’s small, easy mooring at the earliest time that the Makon were expected to attack. Holding position was a risk as it negated any surprise and invited counterattack, but trying to hide the ship from our aquatic enemy was likely futile and simply increased the risk the Makon could breach the outpost before I could maneuver us into position.

Still, it was an odd feeling sailing just inside artillery range, my firing teams manned and ready … only to wait to be attacked.

I brought it up with Arnnaith, and we decided that waiting on the surface was too much of a risk of being boarded. I submerged the ship straight down so any attack could be fired upon – then had to constantly work with my sailors to keep the ship from being pushed and ground against the island’s foundations as the tide fought us.

It was frustrating, but likely better than twiddling our thumbs and jumping at shadows.

The first passing hour turned into the second, and as we approached midnight I conducted rounds to make sure my crew saw me, that they saw I was relaxed and ready. It was partially a façade, but some of the tension left their shoulders while their eyes returned to attentiveness. Jack gave me a nod.

I went over the plan and potential scenarios with Arnnaith. Establishing a baseline for ‘what if’ allowed us to be one the same page, so that we could better understand each other when snap decisions were being made in an emergent situation. This would also be the first real fight using the ship’s perks.

Cursed Beginning: This ship is where it began; the Captain’s own descent to the curse that forever holds him. The strength of curse magic is stronger here because of it.

All cursed beings within the ship’s sphere gain 8 distributable attribute points (effects lost upon leaving the area).

I’d delegated my officers to have the discussions on stat allocation with each member under them. 8 distributable points was a massive gain, but being able to reallocate them meant more liberties could be taken. If someone was going to be facing a direct threat, maxing their Constitution for more HP was smart even if it wasn’t where they’d normally put the points. Likewise, the artillerists could put all those points into Dexterity and/or Luck.

You still had to manage your points so they weren’t imbalanced; getting a negative effect would still happen even if you knew you could remove the offending points by leaving the area. All my crew knew not to mess with imbalances.

Since I’d permanently lost 2 of my Constitution points after fighting off the Wyrm fire the vampires had used, I’d strongly wanted to bump up my Constitution. It has always been a staple for me: it was life, after all!

However, after consideration I had to admit that my role was not that of a frontline fighter who needed to be able to take more hits. I was transitioning into a support role, and my magic casting was what mattered. Boosting my Intelligence and Wisdom was what I should focus on.

Because I already had those near the limit of my attribute cap, I needed to raise my lowest stat first. That was still Charisma. Two points brought it level with Luck at 19. That brought my upward cap to 29, and I used my remaining free points to bring my Intelligence to 29 and Wisdom to 28.

I was accumulating the mana pool necessary to be flinging more powerful spells – spells that I’d been training on and could hardly wait to use.

Then there were the two ship’s perks directly related to damage taken/received:

Defiant: Spit in the face of adversity – the Captain of this vessel did so against overwhelming odds yet still emerged.  Do nothing less with all enemies.

Active ability: Captain can initiate a 35% damage reduction for 2 hours with a cooldown of 4 hours.

Burning Sea: Victory at all costs, against any odds – even if it means the destruction of vessel keeping you afloat.

+10% damage to all attacks on designated enemies. Once per hour, the Captain can increase damage taken by 30% for an additional 15% damage to attacks.

My usual operating procedure would be to keep them in reserve for a dire moment, but I’d been told by those who knew better that was wrong. Defiant was something I would activate the moment our ship faced a direct attack – a duration of two hours might not be much in some battles but should cover the entire conflict tonight. Burning Sea was something we planned to activate right before starting our artillery support of the outpost. Ideally, we’d inflict 15% more damage with the ballista without having anyone take any hits.

Nightmare: The Captain of this ethereal vessel has spent hours undergoing escalating fear effects. Now all who dare to face him must pass the same tribulation.

All enemies within the ship’s sphere of influence must make a Wisdom save or suffer an escalating fear debuff.

Perhaps the crux of our defense was the aura effect. It remained untested so it was a bit of a gamble, but we didn’t expect the Makon to be heavily invested in their Wisdom. It was possible that none of them would even be able to make it to our deck and remain on their own feet.

It was also possible that they’d all be able to – the uncertainty wore on me.

It didn’t wear on me for the entire night. The Makon waited until the third bell of the midnight watch, but they came.

“All hands make ready!” I shouted, sensing them the moment they entered my Domain. “Enemies off the port beam and the bow!”

They’d split their forces to attack us. Some were coming at us from the port side, while a smaller group was coming from the bow, but the main bulk of their force was moving directly overhead, just below the surface. They were heading for the outpost. It was actually good for us. A bad scenario would have been the entire raiding party attacking us before moving on, and would have required that we flee and make a running fight.

Though we might have underestimated the number in this tribe. Makon groups split before they got too large … yet somehow there were 100 still moving on to the outpost.

Sadeo took his first shot, an extreme range poison bolt that worked because the warrior hadn’t expected it. It tried to pull the bolt out of his shoulder but when it saw that would likely tear his arm out with it, he instead broke the shaft. Then an aura of his own flashed and I recognized a skill like the orcs’ rage. It began swimming straight at us as fast as it could.

It was the beginning of the charge. All the others realized they’d been seen and accelerated their swim speed as well. A broadside thrummed as ballista bolts shot out to meet them. These were dodged.

Then the Makon bridged the distance between the edge of my expanded Domain and the ships’ sphere of influence, and it was like hitting a wall. Every single one of the stuttered and froze. Sadeo had timed the reload of his crew so that another broadside was ready right as they froze up. The eight Makon off the port side were immediately turned into pincushions by 40 upgraded ballistae.

Unfortunately the approach angle of the six off the bow didn’t allow for artillery shots, and it was too far for the archers on deck to hit. The half dozen made for interesting sample size as they all began to move again and reorient themselves. Only one had fought off the fear effect entirely, but the others still pressed on despite it.

Now I’d get to see how much time passed before they had to pass another check and it escalated.

The answer was: not before they could make it to the ship. The aura was powerful, to have effected them all so much, but it wasn’t an all-powerful ending move.

I activated Defiant and felt the effect take place, though no outward sign like a flash or extra armor appeared.

All the non-professional fighters who weren’t also artillerists were waiting on deck for them, with Jack standing at their center. The archers and crossbowmen took their ranged shots first, but the Makon were large enough that single ballista bolts hadn’t done them in. Arrows hurt, but hardly incapacitated.

Before they slammed into my melee fighters, I was next.

In preparedness, I’d cast half a dozen water whips that I maintained around myself ready to lash out as an attack or to maneuver me around. I prioritized the one that had resisted the fear effect, a quick analyze showing that he had a Wisdom of 17. The first offensive spell I used was a new one, or rather a modification my old ‘freeze’ spell:

Frostbite: inflicts freezing damage on a target; Dexterity of frozen area -15.

Mana cost:15. Range: 30 feet. Damage: (direct) 50 / (ranged) 25.

The spell was solid, with lots of utility packed into it. If I touched someone directly I inflicted twice the damage, but casting at range still took 15 points of Dexterity off. For most, that took all practical functionality away.

Casting it at the lead Makon resulted in the fingers of his right hand blackening around the trident it grasped. Unfortunately, they were frozen stiff around the weapon so he didn’t drop it immediately, but crippled was progress.

My 25 points of HP damage was mitigated by some defense of his down to 20 points, which was a frighteningly small percentage of the 400+ HP he had.

And gosh, these guys were big up-close! Their humanoid figure had deceived me at range, but they were about eight feet long and over 400 pounds at a guess. That was nearly the size of giants. Their shark heads had just as many teeth as their cousins. They moved quickly in the water too.

My adversary’s bull-rush left me with only enough time to move out of the way and lash him with half of my water whips before he was past me and engaging with the rest of my crew. I didn’t get caught up with finishing him off. Instead my whips grabbed some rigging and shot me away from the ship and into the rest of the pack. As soon as I was in their midst I cast Thunderclap. Using the air spell underwater generated concussive properties. I heard the noise but was personally immune to the effect, but since my allies wouldn’t be I had to be judicious in its use.

I’d caught four Makon in my little blast, and before any of them had shrugged off the stun I’d caught two of them with a Cone of Frost and used Frostbite on a third, lashing about me with my whips all the while.

Being at the center of a group of warriors was traditionally a very bad place to be. Unless you had some good area of effect spells, then it was perfect.

I didn’t hang around to dodge all the incoming attacks. Instead I dumped stamina into a burst of swimming speed away from the four. Three of them left the charge against the ship and instead followed me; the one that I hadn’t frozen, the one with Frostbite and the one winged by my Cone of Frost.

I saw two already engaged on the deck of my ship.  Jack was taking point – a rapier in one hand and a dagger in his other – and directed my crew to separate and surround them. The one leaving me would join that fight, so they’d have three on their hands as well. I didn’t think my part-time fighters could handle all six at once.

My instinct was to drag the three I had tailing me away from the fight, bleed them out myself and let my crew manage the others. That wasn’t my role, though. I could be the skirmisher, or I could be the supportive spellcaster. I’d slipped back into skirmishing on reflex. I didn’t regret it, but leaving my crew to handle themselves would be wrong. That left me with the question of how to quickly get rid of the three following me without bringing them back to the fight – and a solution quickly came to mind.

“Sadeo!” I shouted as I swam out about 60 yards from the ship and then moved along the port side. All my pursuers had a swimming skill to match my own, but they also had debuffs that conveniently strung them out behind me.

Just when I thought I’d have to double around to give Sadeo another shot, the Raven fired another broadside. Two of my pursuers were cut into chum. The third had seen the trap before it was sprung and tried to dart away – which evaded most of the threat but he’d still been winged. I circled around long enough to cast Frostbite twice more and then left him for the artillery crews to finish off.

There were three giant Makon rampaging the deck.

‘Rampaging’ was not the right word, as my fighters were doing an admirable job bleeding them and keeping them at bay while covering for each other. Each enemy had so much raw power, though, that it took all of them. The leader that had resisted the fear effect continued to be a problem, having now activated their particular rage skill. It didn’t cancel out the fear effect on the others – in fact they’d both been inflicted with another stack of the fear effect – but it did seem to create a frenzy in them that was putting my fighters on the back foot.

Time for magic and acrobatics.

I swam towards the leader with an eye on my stamina, cautious of burning too much more for extra speed. The leader swung in a circle around himself with his trident, his frozen grip on it probably the only reason he hadn’t speared one of my crewmen through already. His spin ended with the tines of his weapon pointed at me, clearly seeing me coming and recognizing my threat. I pointed at him, but before I could cast anything he sprung away from the deck right at me! I lashed to a spar with a whip and jerked myself to the right out of his path … he redirected and made a heavy swing like he was using a club.

He was going to hit me.

Frantically, I cast a water shield around myself and had just started to freeze it when the trident broke it apart and swatted me into the mainsail.

“OOOF!” The air was knocked out of my lungs, and I scrambled to move away from his follow up attack while my empty lungs were still trying to work again. The left side of my body was on fire. Worse, it was a tensed up and hard to move.

“Captain!” Someone below shouted.

The points of the trident were coming for my heart as I pulled my own trident from my adventurer’s bag. I couldn’t wield it properly, but I could curl around the haft. I caught the tines of his weapon in mine and hung on as my enemies’ mass slammed through my inertia. He pushed me down until the butt of my weapon hit the wood of the quarterdeck.

For some reason being thrown around a second time helped my lungs open back up and I breathed. The Makon in its frenzy tried to have a shoving match against my trident, but the solid metal weapon held up.

I expected his next move would be to pull back his trident and stab at me again. I reached out my whips to grab the nearby gunwale so I could pull myself away when he did.

Instead, he kept his metal trident locked with mine and spun his foot down to stomp my head.

Seeing the impending curb stomp, I triggered Shocking Touch into my weapon. My all-metal weapon, locked with his all-metal weapon, which his hand was still frozen to.

Using the electric spell underwater inflicted damage on myself too; I wasn’t immune to these particular effects. Water also turned it into a poor-man’s AoE spell, but it still worked to my purpose of interrupting his stomp. I let go of my trident and pulled myself away with my whips.

The Makon shook itself but an arrow hit its nose before it attacked again. That looked painful! Judging by the cry it gave, it was.

I cast Frostbite on it again, in case it got any ideas about diverting it attention from me. “Archers, with me!” I said. “Melee, try and direct the other two into fighting each other.” Hopefully between their frenzied status and increasingly worse fear debuff they’d hack each other to pieces for us.

The leader launched himself at me again, and I used my whips to pull myself away, my body still curled up on itself. I had the uncomfortable choice of allocating mana: I could heal myself instantly but it would leave me completely dry when I needed my magic. Alternatively, I could use my mana for spells – including mobility with my whips – and hope that we could end this fight before I ran out of mana.

I could supplement my choice with a mana potion, but I’d need a window so that I could cast my healing spell and get a mana potion too without giving my focused enemy an opening …

Swinging around for now it was.

It didn’t feel dignified, being chased around the rigging of my ship while curled up on myself, but it was working. More and more arrows had found my enemy, and the crew had pushed the other two Makon together. The other two weren’t actively attacking each other yet, but hadn’t been careful with their attacks and inflicted some collateral damage.

The leader seemed to understand what was going on, and it infuriated him. Of the 14 that had attacked, 11 were dead to artillery, two were being corralled and he was chasing me in circles. He could stop chasing me at any moment and dive on my crew from above, but giving a moment to heal would undo the attack he’d managed to lay on me, and I was the most dangerous enemy present.

In the end, inevitability decided for him. I could outlast him swinging around and he knew it. His only choice was to let me go and support his partners. He turned and dove down at the fight, his trident readied and his maw open wide.

I lashed his feet with two whips and a mast with my others, trying to arrest his charge. It worked for a second, slowing him down, before his strength and weight ripped my watery spell constructs apart.

Fishguts. I was hoping that would work.

I did manage to slow him down and rather than crush my crew from surprise I had men dodge and ready themselves. Successful support role!

Now I needed to do something about my low HP, broken ribs, punctured lung, bruised organs … jeez, the list of debuffs was depressing. I was glad I hadn’t paid attention to it earlier, and even more thankful that I had a means of fixing it all.

I cast Replenishing Waters and felt the remainder of my mana be sucked away as the worst of my injuries were restored. Reaching for a mana potion awakened pains that showed I hadn’t had enough mana to fuel a full recovery, though a quick exam assured me that I could function well enough. It would have to do.

A potion took the edge off my empty mana pool, but didn’t bring me back to full spell-slinging capability. I cast a single water whip for emergency movement and positioned myself above the battle, pulling a loaded crossbow from my bag.

I would have expected the Makon to make better use of the three-dimensional battlefield, being aquatic creatures and all. Instead, they oriented themselves like the ship was their ground. My crew being able to rapidly move while anchored and then swim to dodge negated the movement advantage the Makon normally enjoyed in this realm, and they’d failed to adapt.

To be fair, two of the three were now ‘terrified’ and the other had been chasing me around.

My bolt hit a head, but failed to pierce the skull. Reloading the crossbow was a pain, but I didn’t think I could hold proper archery form with a normal bow, or chuck harpoons without spasming and risking my men who were darting in and out.

I cast Frostbite, then sighted down my crossbow again. We had this fight in the bag, we just had to wrap it up soon so we could support the outpost …

My worries about our timetable vanished as a hatch to the lower decks popped open. A lance of ice shot into the leader, spearing his side before it started expanding in fractals, tearing flesh out and apart. Between the other two Makon, a sphere of darkness ballooned and swirled in a 10 foot radius before dissipating – leaving both Makon and a few crew caught inside the radius blinded. My crew were quickly pulled out by their fellows, but the Makon turned frantic, laying about themselves with their weapons before hitting each other … and promptly tearing each other apart. The one that survived was easily put out of its misery.

Marcus Renshaw gave me a nod from the hatch before he turned and went below again. I’d stationed him as a last-ditch support for the artillery crews because he didn’t have our curse, so operating underwater was difficult for him. He was essentially on a timer, and the more mana he used the shorter his timer was.

He’d been chaffing a bit that I hadn’t utilized him, and I think his contribution here was his way of saying ‘See? Not so useless after all, huh?’

I’d eat my words and have a talk with him later. Right now we had somewhere to be. I started raising the ship.

“Artillery crews, man the starboard ballistae!  Fighters, check for and stabilize injuries. Our bombardment is about to begin!”

Our ascension was quick, the Raven was faster than any of the cursed ships I’d had before. Her complement of weaponry was readied as we looked to the outpost for whatever was happening. Scant minutes had passed in our underwater battle. The rest of the Makon forces had swam the distance to shore and barreled to the gates, where they seemed to be temporarily stymied by the walls and defenses.

It was easy to see that Rhistel had failed to broker any kind of peace, however.

“Sadeo,” I called below as I activated Burning Sea. “Fire when ready!”

I response he instructed “Poison bolts – fire!”

Roughly two-thirds of the starboard ballistae twanged over the next three seconds, as the loudouts he’d instructed tracked their targets and made their shots. Some missed, but many bolts sank into the backsides of the attacking force, causing cries and temporary confusion before a chieftan – standing head and shoulders above the rest – rallied them.

“Poison bolts – fire!”

The chieftain dispatched a team to fall back and attack us.

“Sonic bolts; target the team entering the water. Coordinate your marks. Poison bolts – fire! Sonic bolts … fire!”

It was music to hear Sadeo choreograph the effective attack on the raiding party. Of the 100 attackers, maybe 20 were down with lucky critical hits, but about three quarters had been wounded and poisoned. The chieftain had underestimated our firing power and speed as well; the team he’d sent to dispatch us would be dead before they made it halfway.

The giant Makon stood tall and glared at our dark ship cutting off his retreat. Sadeo ordered another round, but one shot was delayed. My kitsune artillerist had commandeered a ballista himself, and an explosive bolt shot out aimed right at the chieftain.

Before impact, the chieftain’s trident glowed blue. The explosive bolt detonated, smoke blew away … and the Makon stood unharmed.

He roared, lifted his weapon, and turned and leveled it at the gates. A jet of water streaked out from the tines, and he slashed it across the gate’s hinges. Then he gave another command and charged with his vanguard.

He knocked the gate down and hardly broke stride.

I could see a melee brawl instigated behind the gates, but details were impossible to discern. Sadeo took full advantage of the massed enemies fighting to get through the gates and unleashed salvos of enchanted munitions. Some still got through and beyond our sight. Others took great leaps and scaled the rough walls.

We’d inflicted a heavy price on them for entry, but they were now in.

“Sadeo, have your precision teams look for targets of opportunity beyond the walls. All others stand by.”

“Aye, Dom!” he said, before calling out his top artillerists and assigning them quadrants to scan. The outpost was on a hillside and its walls were not so effective that they’d keep us from seeing and shooting over them. We just had to have a care that we hit only our enemies while doing so. The broadsides were over.

The other artillerists were put on alert with various loadouts. That proved necessary – a pair of Makon scouts had flushed out one of Gnar’s snipers that he’d left outside the walls. The madu archer kept ahead of them long enough to run to the Cliffside and jump the 60 feet into the surf below. Most enemies would have balked at following, but the Makon didn’t think twice about it any more than he had. However, these archers apparently hadn’t been around to see our earlier volleys and didn’t realize being in Sadeo’s sightlines was courting death. Our archer waved his thanks as he scrabbled back to shore and towards the fight.

“How many got in?” I asked Jack after 15 minutes. Half my attention was on the outpost, the sounds of battle and occasional thwmp of ballista being fired. The other half was on performing first aid on injured crew. I shepherded my mana for serious injuries, but there was a lot that could be done with simple bandages. Marcus had joined me and made application of his own healing spells

“At least 30,” he said. I’d thought it was 40, but his lower estimate didn’t manage to bring me comfort. Just three had been a lot to handle on deck, though that was without professionals and the outpost had all of my strongest fighters.

“Can you,” he asked. “Can you sense how they’re doing?”

“I can say that three have died so far. Which three I can’t say.”

He nodded. “Useful to know yet useless all the same.”

I nodded.  In the heat of battle I made decisions. While I watched battle, I fretted.

The din of battle finally faded, with one more of my crew having disappeared from my senses. Someone with a flag in each hand began signaling for us to come ashore.

“Guess that’s that,” Marcus said.

“Jack, leave the rearguard but have everyone else assemble to assist the outpost.” I didn’t think more fighting would be required, but we just might need everyone who knew how to apply a bandage.

The rocky ground in front of the walls smelled like a charnel house, and the tide would run red when all the blood was washed down. Inside the gate was worse; this was where killing had been condensed and compacted into a few square yards.

A scene like this seemed to demand a backdrop of flames and burning buildings, but the only flames were in lanterns, their light supplemented by variously colored glowstones and the light of the moons. It make for a disorienting panoply of shadows.

When I pushed my eyes past the flickering shadows and the gore and the large corpses on the ground, I saw Rhistel.

He was pinned to a building wall with a trident.

My blood ran cold and I reflexively surrounded myself with water whips, dashing towards him. My step was checked when I saw his hand twitch, his head loll slightly. He was alive! Or maybe alive …

A town guardsman stepped out of the shadows and held up a hand. “Pardon, sir, but there’s orders that no one touch him.”

I resisted the urge to lash him with my whips, but still shoved him aside as I reached to check Rhistel’s pulse. I didn’t find it, but maybe that was because my own hands were trembling? “And please tell me who gave such an order?” I said, my voice coming out unintentionally menacing.

“I did,” called a grumbling, flanging voice. For anyone else, I’d have continued to demand an explanation, but Drese dumped a bucket of cold water on the embers of my anger and left me confused.

The master life mage put a hand on my shoulder, then gestured to Rhistel. “He was caught here in the battle at the gates. I could have healed him, but it would have meant I lacked the mana to heal multiple professional combatants of less severe wounds. Instead, I cast a type of stasis on him. I was, in fact, waiting for you. If you have a full mana pool, we can remove the trident and you can save him.”

“It’s not full yet,” I said, reaching for my potions.

“Domenic,” Drese said gently. “He will pull through. Let me walk you through the triage we need …”

I followed Drese and he directed me and all those I’d brought with me with healing magic or first aid skills in coaxing life and HP back into a long line of wounded. Most injuries were minor – in the sense of broken bones and amputated limbs. Drese had been orchestrating this dance since the battle started; balancing a healing spell for someone with a combat spell that might take out a greater threat. Heal a warrior to full strength or put them in stasis and move on. His mark was everywhere, on people who he’d healed to the point of removing them from danger before moving on to more dire cases.

In this way, he walked those near death back from the brink. From those near the edge, to a place where they’d manage to live. From those who’d live, he tried to restore what he could of their life: a severed hand could be reattached for a relatively low mana cost, even if regrowth wasn’t an option.

I respected him for it. I listened to him, acknowledged that he was right.

But there were four corpses set aside from my crew: one was headless, the missing piece in some Makon’s stomach. Two were torn open by tridents, and the last had his ribcage crushed. They were immediately fatal injuries that Drese could do nothing about.

But as he healed the townspeople alongside my crew, I couldn’t help but think that they were not my own. They didn’t do the smart thing and take shelter aboard my ships. They shouldn’t be getting medical care when my crew were dead.

It was wrong, and I knew it, but I still felt it. The weight of that feeling sat heavily in my stomach.

We’d thought we’d planned to overwhelm the raiding force. Instead, they’d surprised us with their numbers and we’d been just enough. Without Drese performing his dance of life and death there would have been far more fatalities. Gnar found me when he returned from scouring the outpost for any Makon that might have hidden, but they’d all fought to the last – even if that fight was made by splitting away from the battle at the gates to go on a rampage.

In the end, four of my crew were dead along with nine of the outpost’s occupants. To an impartial strategist 13 deaths against over 100 Makon was indeed a crushing victory.

It just didn’t feel like it sometimes.

I kept up a strong face while the triage was conducted, and reports came in, and the mayor thanked me for our assistance and sacrifice. I kept up a brave face while I waited for my mana to replenish, and Drese and I pulled out the trident from Rhistel’s body and healed him before his last HP disappeared. I clapped the confused elf on the shoulder and moved on to the others he’d put in stasis. By the time we were done the sun had risen to give the thick marine layer around the island a gray glow.

Marcus found me and pulled me aside when it was done. “Lad, none of the death’s here were your fault.”

“I know.”

“Each person out there chose to follow you. They chose to follow your goals. When you stand up for something like fighting monsters there are going to be losses, but that doesn’t put the blame for anything on your shoulders …”

“I KNOW!” I shouted, interrupting him. “I did everything right and my crew still died! Now why the hell do you think that would make me feel better?”

Seeing the startled shock in his eyes, I gave a weak apology and left. Great, now I owed Marcus a real apology for that outburst on top of the discussion of his capabilities.

My mood was feeling black as I tried to not look like I was stalking around the outpost.  I wanted to see the damage, put together how things had happened. Try to make sure we improved so future losses could be minimized.

Walking through the foggy town, I came across Will. He was, of all things, carrying around a toddler! He pointed at me for the little girl and approached.

“Will,” I said, making my voice patient. “Whose child is that?”

“This is Maggie!” he replied cheerfully, ignoring whatever black cloud I seemed to be dragging around. “She wanted to thank me for saving her town, but I told her; ‘that wasn’t me! That was the great Captain Seaborn! He’s the one who came and made a trap for the bad guys!’ So then she had to come thank you, so we’ve been looking all over so she could say thanks.” He shifted the girl in his arms. “Did you want to say thanks?”

There was an awkward 10 seconds where the girl just stared at me and my scarred face. Then she shoved out a ragged dandelion she held in her chubby fist. “Thank you,” she murmured, tucking her head against Will’s chest and watching me with one eye.

The corner of my mouth quirked up and I took the flower from her. “You’re welcome, little miss. It was the right thing.”

Will gave me a wink before turning around and asking if she was ready to meet the big orcs or snake people now. I shook my head as he disappeared in the fog, then looked down at the flower in my hand. I snorted and turned back towards the sea.

I saw Hali cloaked in the leeward side of an old building, studying me carefully. Suspicions immediately bloomed in my mind as I looked at the flower, then at the path Will had taken with the little girl.

To my surprise, I didn’t feel what I thought I’d feel. I found myself looking at the flower with my vision blurring as tears formed and my eyes burned with … what? Shame? Gratitude? Grief?

Hali approached and put her arm around me, leaning her head against my arm. I held that stupid little flower and was so grateful that I had people to pull me back from despair this time.

Author’s Note:

Thank you all once again for your patience and support – have a double-length chapter! :P I had a lot of troubles with this chapter, but after a lot of work and false starts I feel at least satisfied with where it went. Please let me know what you think of the combat and the overall mood of the story! (I nearly ended the chapter with Dom walking out on Marcus, but decided that wasn’t the tone I was looking to set at this stage and manufactured the current ending scene. Thoughts?)

Also, as a head’s up, I’m going to try to get another chapter out to you guys this month. August is looking like I’ll be swamped, though, and I don’t hold realistic hope I’ll manage another one that month.

I plan to post a single chapter on RoyalRoad along with something of an explanation of what’s been going on, before putting the RoyalRoad story on hiatus (officially, it’s kinda been on it for months already :P ). I’ll still be trying to write and give you guys those chapters. When I restart RR posting (later this year?) it will likely be with an every-other-week schedule.

Thanks again for your guys’ support! The funds have been a blessing when money’s been tight, but honestly just the fact that over 100 people have been willing to stick around for my sporadic updates gives me motivation to finish strong.