85. Knockdown

“Captain, a moment of your time?” Hali said, her face popping up over the ladder to the quarterdeck.

I’d been having a private discussion with Rhistel on the nature of the role of first mate, my expectations and how I wanted to support him in fulfilling them. It was a challenging project not because Rhistel lacked the knowledge or capability so much as he did the temperament. A first mate needed to loud, boisterous. They needed to be able to give a tongue lashing or praise in front of the whole crew. Rhistel … well, he could be downright destructive with his wit but that wasn’t the point – the point was always to get compliance with a person. A tongue lashing should lead to motivation, not a crushed soul.

It was one instance of the issues we were having. No issues had become troublesome yet, but I did have to squash the voice in me that told me he wasn’t fit for the role and worked with him on developing the presence he needed.

I gave Rhistel a nod that conveyed we’d pick up where we left off again and followed Hali down to the officer’s mess/surgeon’s room, the two often being combined on ships and this hulk not being an exception.

I expected a private conversation with Hali on an important matter – she wouldn’t interrupt my time for something trivial. I was surprised, then, to see that we weren’t alone. Varinya stood nervously waiting for us next to a wood and rag dummy sitting in an armchair.

“Varinya,” I greeted. “How are you finding Miss Hali’s tutelage?”

“Very agreeable, Captain!” The leonid replied instantly.

Glancing between her and Hali – who had a coy half-smirk on her face – I went on. “I confess that not even I am aware of what exactly Miss Hali has been working with you on.”

“That’s why I asked you here, Captain.” Hali slid into the conversation again smoothly, just as smoothly as she slid into another chair. “We’d like to give you something of a demonstration.”

I quirked an eyebrow but was familiar with Hali’s games, even if she didn’t play them when it was just us anymore. “Very well, I trust I’ll be impressed.”

My words didn’t seem to calm Varinya down, as she nervously wrung her hands together and cracked her clawed fingers. Hali simply smiled at her and motioned to the seated dummy.

Varinya strode right in front of the target, took a breath, and suddenly it was like the winds changed. She became an entirely different person, languid and smooth. She treated the dummy like it was a real person, a person who had her full attention … and a person who no doubt would have given her his full attention as she danced for him like a consort at a raunchy tavern.

Once upon a time I’d let my shipmates know I wasn’t comfortable being around consorts, being naïve and thinking they’d understand since I was the son of one. When we got to shore I’d been forced to endure more attention and dances like the one Varinya was performing now than any single sailor would have been able to afford as it turned into a game where shipmates footed the bill and ladies playfully teased the blushing youth.

I wasn’t that blushing youth any longer, but I’d never come to enjoy the kind of attention Varinya was lavishing. So I turned to Hali and cocked my head, demanding answers without saying anything.

She in turn had been watching me closely and gave me a bright smile, simply mouthing the words ‘watch closely’.

I breathed deeply to settle my annoyance and watched the leonid. I couldn’t quite decide whether it was more or less awkward watching her perform on a dummy than it would be a living person. There was no backdrop of tavern music or noise, just the sound of the waves and occasional voices heard through the bulkheads. The silence certainly made it more awkward.

Varinya nuzzled past the dummy’s head, leaning sharply over him while her hand trailed up his leg … and suddenly he blurred with movement, her jaws latching on the dummy’s neck and a the claws on her hand opening up his throat.

She held that pose for a moment, breathe heaving, before she awkwardly removed herself and stood to the side, back to being the nervous crewmember looking for my approval.

I glanced at Hali, sure she could read some of my shock even though I tried to school my expression. Without a word I moved over to the dummy and looked it over.

“Jaw clamp around the neck, likely a critical strike and one he couldn’t remove himself from. Multiple claw strikes at the neck, certainly a shredded an artery and probably his windpipe – both critical hits … hmm.” I nudged one of the limp legs to the side and saw the rags around the crotch had also been shredded. A strike intended at other arteries or emasculation? The dummy wasn’t detailed enough to see but either was telling. “I’d say the average sailor would be dead out of hand, and opponents up to their mid-twenties for levels wouldn’t be long for this world. A series of fast initial strikes, well done.”

I couldn’t tell if she blushed with her tawny hair, but her shifting feet and swinging tail were mannerisms that spoke of the same thing.

“Alright girlie,” Hali said. “Go get some air while Captain and I talk.” Varinya left and shut the door behind her, leaving just me and Hali. “So, Domenic? What do you think?”

I nudged the dummy before pulling out a different chair and sitting in it heavily. “A well-executed and unexpected skillset … one completely useless for our circumstances. Is that what you’re teaching her, Hali? How to be a consort-assassin? My crew is rather restricted in its ability to spend time away from the ship, you know!”

Hali threw up her hands. “That’s not the point! Forget about the entire demonstration you just saw and tell me what’s happening?”

I resisted the childish urge to bring up how I had the leadership levels and she didn’t. Just because she was never in a position to acquire and level the skill didn’t mean she didn’t know the theory or application of the subject. “This was just a charade, then. A charade only for her.”

“Exactly. Do you understand why she needed it?”

“She needs to feel useful?”

“She needs to be more than useful, Dom. She needs to be part of things.”

“You’re going to have to lay it out for me, because we’re getting into waters that I’m not familiar with.”

“She’s a leonid – the only one in your crew. She’s cut off from her social structure and has been trying to establish one ever since she was first enslaved. She needs a pack.”

“I may not be too familiar with the leonids, but I know that they don’t live in packs, Hali. They have their own cities and societal structures not unlike other races.”

“Then you know just enough to get you in trouble. Sure they have cities, but why would that take away from their pack sense? It’s part of their societal structure. It’s just not as primitive as the human word for ‘pack’ suggests.”

I tapped my fingers on the table and nodded briefly. “Okay. Tell me more.”

“As a prostitute, Varinya adopted the less fortunate into her pack and became the de-facto leader. She did something similar when you brought her into your crew, only she wasn’t sure about the hierarchy. Now you are establishing a ship-wide hierarchy, Dom, and you need to make sure that it’s not just a list, but that it’s an ordered pack to her. And it needs to be your pack.”

I sighed, controlling my urge to defend my position – my ignorance – and allowing my perspective to shift. This was the kind of thing I needed from my advisors, and just because it was Hali and I wanted to show how I was right and had been right all along … that was no reason to dig my heels in now.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Heck, thank you for moving to take care of it before I even realized it. Seeing as you know about her kind and now that you’ve spent some time with her, how should we move forward?  And who else on board will require some special attention?”

She gave me her thoughts and we came up with a plan. Cultivating Varinya as a spy wasn’t the answer because only when Callis and Uropa were both red would that be something we needed from her. Hali had met Varinya where she was at and with a little guidance assured her of her worth and capabilities. Now that she had pride in herself again and I was aware of the social dynamics I’d been ignorant of, we could work her into a different role – and establish the image of a familial structure that she needed.

To simplify it: humans needed one type of order and most other races were expected to adjust or deal with it. I wasn’t dealing with a temporary crew, I needed to make my ship a place worth being for Varinya, the same as I would anyone else. It wasn’t just about being a nice or accommodating person; crew retention demanded it.

When we had a plan – or rather when Hali had educated me on the subject – I took another deep breath to adjust myself and prepare to go topside as the Captain in command once more. It would take some time until being in command and taking lessons from advisors would all feel the same – right now it felt like I was adopting different personalities like I was changing hats.

Hali moved behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Thank you for listening to me,” she whispered in my ear. “Thank you for handling the situation with Varinya like you did, and for valuing my input on it.”

Then she kissed my cheek.

It wasn’t like a quick peck before leaving flirtatiously. She leaned in and pressed her lips against my scarred visage. Then she stayed behind me, her hands on my shoulders, her head so close to mine, her breath on my ear.

She’d never displayed such familiarity and, dare I say intimacy, before. I was hyper-aware of her proximity to me, how if I just turned my head our lips would be right there …

I could sense her body with my Domain, but my view wasn’t limited to just this room. I could also sense the general commotion on deck, the lookouts on the masts pointing and shouting their message to those below.

I roughly cleared my throat. “There’s a ship on the horizon.” I said.

Hali stood and patted my shoulders. If I only had my perspective I’d have said she was entirely composed, but I also sensed her wipe the perspiration from her palms and adjust her clothing as she straightened.

“Do you know yet what you intend to do with them?”

“Speak to them at the very least. Verify that they heard the same warning from the sea we did, give them an impression that we aren’t to be messed with but are non-violent.”

I trailed off as I saw Arnnaith rush towards the mess deck while Gnar’s warband began kitting up. Battle preparations. There were only a handful of reasons they’d take that initiative without my order.

I was in the corridor before Arnnaith had the chance to burst in. “Sir,” he said. “Ship on the horizon, they’re fending off some sort of swarm attack.”

Monsters were a good reason.

“They’re flying the flag of Andros,” the lookout reported, their voice distorted. They were in the crow’s nest with a spyglass, but I’d submerged the rest of the ship below the surface so I wouldn’t distract or spook the besieged ship into doing something stupid. Only my lookout remained above the waves, all but invisible since no one spent time looking for the tips of masts in the water.

“The flag of Andros,” Hali explained for the benefit of all my officers around me. “Means that they belong to Makam and either haven’t been back to port and learned of the annexation or else didn’t put out the coin for a new flag.”

“Makam has been the overarching aggressor in the war theater, driving the squabbles of all other nations before it.” Drese said. “Is your intention still to save these people, Captain? Or would you leave them?”

“They appear to be a whaling vessel, not a warship. If there’s any sailors I hold no ill-will towards it’s the likes of them. We go to their rescue, and even if they have a bad attitude towards us they’ll serve as decent messengers back to Makam.”

“That might be overestimating the importance Makam officials will place on the words of sailors,” Hali cautioned.

“Didn’t you say they were a brutally practical and effective empire?”

“The empire as a whole, yes. The emperor himself definitely. Those in the first wave of occupation into Andros? That’s less certain. There tends to be a bit more anarchy and personal ambition in upheaval before the imperial fist gets real control of the reins.”

“Doesn’t matter for now,” Gnar growled. “The fox doesn’t have the tools to make an impact in the swarm.”

“While the oaf and his lot are the perfect tools,” Sadeo jabbed back. Gnar grinned. The two had established a cooperative rivalry and it bled into their divisions. I was fine with that for now, as competition was good, but I’d make them do some training together to make sure the divide was only over superficial. If they couldn’t train nicely together? Well then I’d become the taskmaster that pushed them into bonds of unity through shared misery.

Gnar and Sadeo knew my thoughts. They also knew that I could be as tough as I needed to be, so I hoped the rivalry didn’t go too far.

They had summed up the situation well. Sadeo’s measly three ballista wouldn’t make a dent in what we faced. It would be up to the warriors to face them.

“Rhistel, your analysis?”

“The swarmers are amphibian, which is unusual this far out at sea. If I must hazard a guess, I’d say that they are a tier of difficulty above drowners. Whereas drowners swarm and are dangerous to creatures in the water, these seem to have no problem attacking those aboard an established ship. Until we’re close enough to analyze one, I’m afraid I can’t speak to their danger other than that.”

“We’re getting close now, we’ll keep …”

“The ship is throwing something over the side!” the lookout unknowingly interrupted us. “They’re packages of some sort – dropping them in the water!”

We all peered ahead, but visibility through the water wasn’t as good as through the air, naturally. My Vision ability often being the only reason my crew could see anything. “Perhaps the whaling ship is trying to give the swarm bait as a distraction?” Drese postulated.

“We’ll see if it works, they’ve entered my Domain.”

I observed dozens of reptilian creatures swarming in a cyclone underneath the hull of the ship, the topmost ones breaching the waves to leap at the deck like penguins. Unlike the rather mild-mannered bird, these had fanged, elongated mouths.

“Fascinating,” Rhistel exclaimed as the creatures passed the threshold for our Vision ability to bring them into sight. “Quadruped, but built more like canines than crocodiles. Mouth is shorter than an alligators too, I’m curious whether they clamp and roll with their prey or tear at it.”

“Analysis, elf.” Gnar interrupted.

“Speed build, high dexterity low health. Classic swarmer. Mild to severe HP damage with a strike, though. Can’t estimate stamina reserves yet.”

Gnar nodded and bellowed to his fighters on the main deck. “Emphasis on heavy and medium armor! Light armors focus on support!” The fighters quickly began to shake themselves out based on their protective class, some going to quickly change out their armor to something more useful if they had the skill levels for it.

“Are they going for the bait?” Drese asked.

“No, the packages are just floating there in the swarm. I’m not sure …”

The packages exploded.

We felt the underwater detonations from where we were, the impacts carried through the water even if it didn’t affect us with our distance. Right below the ship, in the midst of the swarm? They’d been devastating. The lizards were stunned, some mangled and tainting the waters red.

“Well, I guess they could handle themselves after all,” Gnar said, a grudging respect in his disappointed tone.

“We’ll keep an eye on them for a bit longer, make sure they’re not bothered anymore.”

“Might be a bad time to show up,” Hali mentioned. “It’ll look like you were involved rather than saving them.”

I submerged the ship to cover the lookout on the mast, analyzing the creatures now that they were within my range.

Name

Kappa

Level

10

Health

125

Mana

0

Stamina

350

I remembered Jones mentioning in his tale something about using kappa long ago …

“Captain,” Rhistel said, worry in his tone.

“What?”

He pointed at the kappa. “They’re recovering. And … erratic.”

The stunned creatures were indeed shaking themselves out of it and haring off in wild directions. Gone was the orderly cyclone, now the dozens were streaking in every which way.

“They’re frenzied,” Rhistel pronounced.

That was it. Jones had frenzied kappa. “All hands!” I bellowed. “Prepare to surface!”

The warriors prepared themselves to engage while the sailors prepared to make the adjustment from the ocean current to sea breeze. I began surfacing the ship. Breaching the hulk was not an elegant affair, because she was not an elegant ship and I refused to invest more XP in her than necessary for now. We were heading to claim a ship that I would invest in. I could deal with the slow surfacing speed a while longer.

Before we breached the surface, we saw the last of the stunned kappa regain their wits. Then, with a hive mind peculiar to swarming creatures, their wild tangents re-centered on the ship. Dozens leaped from the water onto the deck or the sides of the hull, where their claws latched on and they began to climb aboard.

We got to watch their egress from the water, and as we surfaced we got to watch their carnage aboard the deck. The previously celebratory crew had been caught flat-footed by the vengeful counterattack. As we watched, a kappa arced from the water in a jump that had to have been an ability, because it cleared the spar on the mainmast before landing in the midst of the crew, sowing havoc and breaking the order of the resistance.

Some of the men impaled the kappa with harpoons straight from the air, others hacked at them with the arms typically used to dissuade pirates. Most faltered and fled below decks. It was hard in battles like this to judge whether they were cowards or just intelligent.

“Their attention isn’t on us,” Rhistel said. “Could be because of their frenzy, or you’re right and they don’t consider us a target, Captain.”

“Even if they don’t, I doubt they’ll let us simply hack them apart. Sadeo!”

“Here!”

“Take your best shots – I want you personally on a ballista to buy survivors time. Gnar!”

“Captain?”

“We will board the whaling vessel and clear its decks.”

“Aye aye!” To his band he shouted, “Ready yourselves, maggots! We’ll darken your blades yet!”

I nodded to Drese, and he returned the gesture before following the orc. He’d oversee that we didn’t lose anyone, but it was also going to be training for the medicos.

This was our first battle as a united crew.

I would not be taking part directly. I’d made my mark as a skirmisher, a half-fighter half-mage spellsword. However, it was time for me to move away from that. I was the Captain, the leader, and I had the capabilities to fill a powerful support role. Having permanently lost several points of Constitution to the vampires’ wyrmfire poison had reminded me that I wasn’t the epic duelist my own legends claimed I was. I was adaptable, and that let me bring the right weapon to each fight. Now it was time for me to bring my spells to the fight without my blades.

I yelled out orders to those manning our sails and the controlled the construct manning the helm with just a thought, bringing us alongside the whaling vessel. If the hulk bumped up against it … well, I was just clearing the side of any climbing kappa.

Sadeo shot a lunging kappa out of the air, but the man he’d saved was already injured and two more savaged him before more help could come. Gnar didn’t hesitate and leapt the distance to the other deck and began clearing kappa, his professional marines right with him establishing a foothold and the others filing in behind to expand it.

I cast a cone of frost as my first spell – it caught two kappa in its range and inflicted ice damage on them and slowed them down, but my favorite thing about the spell was using it to create slippery surfaces and the kappa didn’t seem the least dissuaded by the icy deck. I switched to my other ranged options, using water whip and air blades to selectively target enemies rather than blast AoE spells.

The warband cleared the main deck quickly; we brought an abundance of warriors to this fight. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to save any of the sailors who’d stayed to fight – they’d all been torn to shreds. The kappa had followed the fleeing crewmembers into the holds below, and Gnar directed Mirash to go after them with his team while the rest fended off the kappa still surging out of the water.

The kappa had ignored us until we began to clear them, then they suddenly seemed to see us for the first time. Once we’d marked ourselves as enemies, the entire swarm regarded us as such and went for us with the same intensity they’d gone for the whalers. Some even boarded the Internment’s deck, but they were ruthlessly dispatched by myself and the reserves Gnar had left.

Mirash cleared out whatever kappa made it below decks quickly, as he reappeared and reported to Gnar only a short time later. Gnar acknowledged him, had the hatches of the ship blockaded and tightened his formation, sending the extra bodies back to the Internment to defend it. We were moving past the initial surge into a holding action. The monsters were obligingly coming to us, we just slaughtered them as they did until they gave up or none were left.

Everything went smoothly. Not to say there weren’t mistakes and injuries – the medicos got their practice in too – but there was a solid defensive line, any kappa trying to leap over that line were immediately cut down, and any injured fighters were quickly replaced and ushered to the ‘medical field’ on the main deck of the Internment.

There was pain, stress, and work, but there was a controlled method to it all and no one died. That was better than most battles went.

In the end, the kappa left their frenzied state before they exterminated themselves and the remainder fled. Rhistel didn’t think much of their chances of survival without a swarm, but ecology was a bit of a mess at the moment and no one could really say. The deck of the whaling ship was a gory mess, with bodies of kappa piled up and washing the deck with blood. The fresh coppery scent was an improvement from the smell whalers usually carried.

I gave the all-clear once the last kappa had left my Domain and joined Gnar aboard the whaler. “Captain,” he grunted, saluting me and flinging blood with the crispness of the movement. “The battle is won. All monsters down, surviving crew locked below.”

“Good work,” I said returning the salute. We’d agreed there were certain times that he should show me absolute deference to reinforce to his band that I was in command, even if they were in his warband. Following a battle, when everyone’s blood was up, was a good time. It also helped to ceremonialize the victory. “Open up a hatch, we’re going to talk with the survivors.”

“Aye, sir.”

I could already tell through my Domain that the surviving crew had used barrels filled with alchemical materials to barricade themselves in the forward hold. I let Mirash and the others investigate the whole ship anyway before reporting that back, and went below with Gnar. The points of harpoons stuck between barrels greeted us.

“What do you want with us?” A barking voice asked.

“I shall have a civilized discussion with the Captain of this ship.”

“We don’t want you on board! Leave us!”

“I said civilized. If you speak again I will assume you speak for the Captain.”

“I am the Captain!”

“Very well. I am Domenic Seaborn, Captain of the Internment which is currently alongside you. I came when your ship was in distress. The kappa who attacked you are dead. I will be taking their bodies unless you wish to bargain for any?” Silence met my inquiry, the Captain too off balance to process anything. I suspect he’d been prepared to do nothing but shout how they’d never surrender their souls, etc. He’d get his chance in a moment.

“As you wish; I will take them all. I can tell that there are 15 of you in there, 12 in workable shape. If you want to request healing services, you have until we depart. It is my estimation that you have enough people to crew this ship if you make a direct heading for shore, so I will allow you to do so. Last order of business: does anyone on board wish to leave this ship and come with me?”

“We’d rather die than surrender our souls to Davy Jones!”

“Davy Jones no longer has anything to do with it. If you enter his territory again you’re a mite deeper than you should be. No, this is 100% me and my offer.”

“Get off my ship!”

“I’ll be taking the spoils and going now. You lot hiding back there – if this man doesn’t speak for you, make your mind known before we shove off.”

I turned on my heel but remembered something. “Ah, one last thing.” I pulled a pouch of gold from my bag of holding and jingled it. “Any chance there’s an alchemist’s kit on board? I’m in the market, as it were.”

They didn’t have an alchemist’s kit, and for the amount of gold I flashed someone would surely have spilled if they did. Pity; Mouse still needed one if he was going to make his potions into true consumables.

I oversaw the haul of kappa from the deck of the whaler to the Internment, where Mouse was plucking eyes and organs while Gerald was managing their preparation and preservation of the meat. He’d pointed out to me once again recently how investing in the ship providing more than hardtack and water would go a long way into making consistently better meals, but I was too stingy with the XP this close to the ship I truly wanted. All these steaks would help tide us over, and I doubted we’d run out before we acquired more.

The whaling Captain popped above decks to watch everything, but ordered the rest of his crew to stay below. I gathered he wasn’t confident they wouldn’t take their chances with me. Judging by what I could tell of him and his ship, I wouldn’t blame them. He was long-time whaling hand who knew the pursuit and thought that was all that was needed to run his own operation. I didn’t doubt he could fill his hold, either, but he was no leader and his men would hate him by the time they returned even if he made them all rich.

So long as none of them were being physically suppressed from seeking me out, I’d let the matter be. They had a choice in what they did, and sticking with a bad Captain and heading back to land wasn’t that bad an option as things went.

If the Captain had been nicer, I’d have had his decks rinsed of the blood. As it was, he could convince his crew to do that themselves.

No sooner than the last corpse was taken across than I bid the Captain farewell and left, giving orders to have the mooring lines released and prepare to sail. I felt the Captain’s surly eyes on me as I made my way up to the quarterdeck and stood by the helm. I didn’t look at him with my eyes, but watched him quiver with anger through my Domain. I didn’t know if it was my reputation, a bad connection somewhere or if perhaps he was jealous of me, but so long as he didn’t cause trouble I’d stick to my plan and … and …

What was bothering me?

I filtered through my whole Domain, looking for trouble before focusing in on the whaling ship. Finding nothing there, I searched my own ship. No problems. Yet the hairs on the back of my neck were raising and I felt the growing sense that something was wrong.

Travis suddenly stopped what he was doing on the deck and turned to look at me. “Cap’n?” He called out, uncertain.

The sea. I had the highest level of seamanship on board, and my sixth sense was telling me something was wrong. Travis had a skill level lower than mine, but high enough to sense it too.

“Quiet on the decks!” I bellowed, the tense order cutting off the happy bustle of activity and setting Gnar and every other warrior on edge. I closed my eyes and focused on my connection to the sea, both through my perk and my 19 levels of seamanship. I sensed what was wrong – I could see it! Only I opened my eyes and where there should be a gale there was clear skies.

I was going with my gut.

“All hands, make ready! Turn course one-two-zero! Shorten sail! Burn you lot, this isn’t a drill. Get moving NOW!”

Startled hands leapt to follow my orders against all common sense, we were turning the ship in such a way that we’d lose the wind. The Internment didn’t have any investments like the Consort had that would let it sail just by mana hitting the sails, so we’d have to submerge into the water and catch a current because I was essentially ordering us to get into the position I worked so hard to keep the Internment out of.

But they obeyed me, and they moved with alacrity.

Moving to the rail, I shouted at the whaling Captain. “Squall from course three-zero-zero! Change your course to one-two-zero or face it directly!”

The Internment could avoid the danger I sensed coming by submerging. I was staying topside for two reasons: one was to see what was happening. The other was to show the sack of suet Captaining the other vessel that I meant what I said. So it was with disappointment that the Captain responded to my warning by throwing me a rude gesture. We were separated from his ship now and he was seeing the backside of us. That must’ve made him feel brave.

His mistake.

The unwieldy hulk wanted to go the wrong direction every moment but the minute I actually wanted her there, so it took time to her turned about to the course I wanted. Time during which my sense of danger only solidified, and the journeyman seamen were now sensing it as well. I saw the Captain of the other vessel ignoring the concerns of his own crew.

Then the horizon seemed to flicker.  I looked carefully, straining my eyes for the distance, which made the illusion all the more stunning. Not four miles away, the calm sky seemed to peel upwards, forced up and out of the way of the roiling black storm clouds. Lightning flickered wildly but only now was the thunder audible.

It was a squall, capable of knocking down even the sturdiest ships. Only squalls weren’t common on the Passive ocean, everything she threw your way you could see coming and avoid. This was something I’d had to deal with in the Atlas ocean, but even there you could see it coming. This illusion-squall mix was something I’d never seen before.

It caught the stubborn Captain in the worst possible position as he desperately yelled at his men to turn the ship about. The ship was broadside to the wind. If he’d turned into the squall he could have relieved the pressure by letting the sails luff. If he’d followed my advice and turned his heading and shortened sail, he could have blown along with the squall and rode it out.

Instead, the wind caught the sails and screamed through the rigging, pushing the entire ship on her side. She resisted for a moment, her cargo of barrels full of alchemical agents well-balanced and weighing her down. Then the cargo came loose and the weight was redistributed on her starboard side, combining with the wind to slap the sails down and into the water.

The ship had been knocked on her beam-ends, and several of the crew had fallen into the sea. The others were now standing on the bulkheads and watching in slack-jawed shock as water began to flood the ship.

The Internment caught the squall and jerked forward with a speed uncharacteristic of the hulk, causing those without sufficient levels in sea legs to fall. She was perfectly secure, however. I once again began yelling orders to the crew while submerging the ship. No one hesitated an instant, which was necessary. I intended to use our forward momentum and swing us around to the foundering ship. The trick was switching between the high winds currently powering us along and the sea current we would need to catch below the waves.

We pulled it off. Not perfectly, but as well as my crew could perform. Our problem was the slow descent speed of the Internment and the time that we were forced to contend with air pushing the sails in one direction from above and water pushing it in another direction from below. Until I got a ship that could make the transition much, much faster I would lose at least 30% of my speed.

The sinking ship had the time, fortunately. Sometimes even doomed ships took hours to sink. This crew at least recognized their situation and were chopping at the masts with axes. They cut far enough through the main mast as we approached her again for the massive timber to crack and snap, the pressure placed on it from the wind fighting against the weight and buoyancy of the rest of the ship.

The ship righted some, enough to stop taking on water like she’d been but she was listing at 60 degrees at least. The masts sunk. As they did, the crew frantically cut every line that might still be connected to drag them over again.

It was onto the edge of this ship that I climbed once more, flanked by a pair of orcs. The Captain saw me but his pride and defiance were utterly deflated. He looked around and knew exactly the position he was in: stranded. Utterly at the mercy of the sea, his hope was for another ship to rescue them before the sea finished claiming the wreck. Attempting to make it to the nearest shore in their whaling boats was suicide with all the sea monsters. The blood from the kappa running off his deck and into the sea was painting a big target on them for as long as they waited, as well.

“Because I am as merciful as I am reasonable,” I said, emphasizing the words that I knew were not usually associated with my name. “I will re-extend my earlier offer. Who wants to get to shore?”

Author’s Note:

I want to apologize for the unexpected and extended delay in content.  Work was kicking my butt for some time, but it was not the only reason.  I am greatly saddened to say that my unit had the tragic loss of a member due to suicide.

I want to exhort my readers to seek out help if any of you are struggling with suicidal thoughts.  The impact of loss is far-reaching.  Whether it’s to hotlines, friends, or even strangers like me; there’s so many people who want to help.  Don’t accept isolation.