Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Erastus 2

Aaron Ivey’s grim words hung in the air, eerie silence washing over us. The island we stood upon was a place of death, a useless rock in the middle of nowhere that had swallowed up ship after ship over decades. Over a hundred deadly, sleepless beasts lurked in the jungle, hungry for flesh. Most of them were gathered around our destination.

Are all these defenses really paranoid, or were they barely enough to keep this man alive? Does it matter? We can’t just sit here while everyone dies. We need the damn ship, or at least the lifeboat. 

Conchobar’s character sheet showed that he was currently fatigued and armed with a crossbow. If they’d bothered arming him, that was a bad sign. There were a hell of a lot of people you’d want to throw into combat before Conchobar, even setting aside his preferences.

“So what do you suggest?” I growled at Ivey, “holing up here while our shipmates get slaughtered?”

“Yer safe here, mate.” He answered bluntly, looking down at me from the ledge. “There’s probably nowhere safe for them. You had a crew of what, fifty people? Let me tell you how that’ll go. The weak links die first. With any luck, they die screaming, because unless they’re eaten alive they get back up as ghouls within the day. Any champions you’ve got? Ship mage, fancy captains, that kind of thing? They won’t be able to rest, and they won’t be able to make repairs. The ghouls will attack at night, mostly, but they’ll make some kind of attempt every few hours. Anyone who leaves the ship to get supplies or raw materials will be overrun by the smart ones.”

“We got out.” I countered. “We mostly avoided the ghouls.”

“Early on, before the word had gotten out.” Aaron said sadly. “I’m tellin you, mate. If you go out and face the horde you’re going to die. Maybe you’re a hard man, maybe you’ll take out ten before you fall, but you will fall. Then you’ll be something even worse than a normal ghoul.”

He glanced over at Sosima, who was still inscribing runes on the wall. I was about to turn back to Ivey and point out we’d already killed more than a dozen ghouls, but Syl roughly grabbed my arm.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute in the cave?” She said, a frown on her face. “You should probably see Rosie.” I also don’t think you’re having a very productive conversation. (Sense Motive 17+1=18) 

I allowed myself to be led away from the crowd, into the hole in the cliffside. Colors dulled slightly as I walked into the dark cave, but I could tell it was light enough for human eyes to navigate. A few buckets of water and a wooden bowl containing a few bright red berries sat on a table in the back. The walls were lined with a dozen small cots, one of which held Rosie.

Rosie was sleeping peacefully, at least. Her shirt had been expertly cut away from the wound, which Syl had covered in a greenish paste. I’d forgotten quite how small Rosie was. The pale, child sized, near lifeless form didn’t match the upbeat woman I’d come to know.

“She lost a lot of blood.” Syl said, “a lot. She’s not in any state to feed herself, let alone join a rescue operation. I’m not leaving her. That means you’re probably going to have to go without me, if you do go back.”

I looked at Syl, who met my gaze with her pure white eyes.

“I don’t relish the idea of becoming like Ivey, assuming he even lets us stay for long.” Syl said. “I’d suggest you come up with a better plan than rushing headlong through the woods. You need to stop, and you need to think.”

Syl stepped in suddenly and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tight. Her slightly frazzled hair tickled my nose as she buried her face in my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly. “You’re always off in your own little world, so I honestly don’t know. We haven’t had a real opportunity to talk since I fucked you over on the ship.”

“Fucked me over?” I asked, confused, as I instinctively wrapped my arms around her, “when did you do that?”

“I pressured you into sleeping with Caulky.” She said, her face buried in my shoulder. “I thought it would help, but I didn’t realize how close she and the captain were. I didn’t think he’d escalate like that.”

“Hey, that’s not your fault.” I said, pushing her back so I could look her in the eyes. “I’m a horny bastard. I’d have taken my shot eventually anyway.”

Syl sighed, but a smile fought it’s way onto her normally neutral face.

“Pig.” She said fondly. “Seriously, though. You’ve almost died a few times in the last week. Are you charging in because you have another brilliantly stupid trick up your sleeves, or because you don’t want to stop long enough to think it through?”

“I…” I stopped.

Shit. I really was about to charge my team into a legion of ghouls without a plan. Well, other than “make a diamond formation around Sandara and hope she can blast all of them.” That’s a bit of a shit plan, though, for more than five to ten ghouls. 

“Okay.” I said pensively. “You’re right. This is a time for stupid tricks. So, what’s the biggest thing we need to avoid?”

“A giant pack of ghouls that outnumbers us ten to one?” Syl answered, raising one eyebrow. “Unless I’m missing something.”

“Nope. You’ve got it.” I said, disengaging and starting to pace, “and what do we have at our disposal?”

“Uh. Magic?” Syl said. “I’m still not entirely clear how your bloodline actually works, and I know even less about Sandara.”

“Alright. Do we have any chalk or anything?” I asked, “I think I might want to write some things down. Actually, I think we should all discuss this one together.”

“I saw Sosima using some.” Syl suggested. “We can check to see if her ritual is finished.”

When we walked out onto the ledge, Sosima was floating in the air. Her hair billowed around her head like she was underwater, and her arms and legs were contorted painfully, as if she were in the coils of some great and powerful beast.

I stopped to join the rest of the crew in staring, slack jawed. She fell into a crumpled heap like a discarded toy by the time Syl came out behind me.

“Is she done yet?” Syl asked, ignorant of the ostentatious sight she just missed, “We may want to work out here, if you can handle Ivey’s doomsaying. I’d prefer to not disturb Rosie’s sleep.”

••••••••••

Cloudless days in the Shackles are rare; perhaps one day in five is clear enough for the sun to be visible at all. In the rainy season especially, clouds laden with water tended to be the norm. Usually only a light misting, but nearly constant. The sun beating down upon the Man’s Promise so directly was really quite remarkable.

Such were the thoughts of Conchobar Shortstone, traveling minstrel. His focus upon the weather was a conscious decision, of course. The heat and humidity combined to create a rather unpleasant environment, but still, they were the kind of problems that Conchobar preferred to ponder. Conchobar would have been quite happy to never find himself menaced by ghouls in his life, and he had very little faith in his ability to use his crossbow to good effect.

The raid in the middle of the night had been both abrupt and brutal. Dozens of ghouls had swarmed onto the deck of the ship, overwhelming most of the night watchmen. Caulky held the poop deck long enough for reinforcements to arrive, but it had been a massacre. Of the forty people left on the ship, four were dead, nine were too injured to fight, and twelve more had light scratches. Caulky had been prioritized for healing, provided by Conchobar. After that, Conchobar had a crossbow shoved in his hands and was told to keep watch.

Plugg, for all he was a bastard, had taken up a post at the bow of the ship. Any time any member of the crew saw a ghoul, Plugg would summon a red eyed giant bat to swoop after it. As often as not the beast would be torn apart by ghouls, but it usually got its own licks in first. Plugg could summon a bat once every thirty seconds or so, and they could cover quite a distance before collapsing into black ash. Whenever the ghouls tried something, for example lobbing strange mushrooms onto the deck, their charge would be interrupted by a summoned beast. Hardly any of them managed to get all the way to the ship, thanks to the hail of crossbow bolts.

Unfortunately, the constant Spellcraft was taking a toll on Plugg. The ghouls sent forth scouts a few times an hour, just often enough that he could never relax. Conchobar probably should have been resting to regain his own magic, but couldn’t imagine sleeping in these conditions.

They would surely strike under the cover of darkness; Conchobar knew the songs and poems about ghouls. They didn’t fear the sun, and they weren’t stupid. They knew damn well that they could handle darkness better than most prey. A reasonably well fed ghoul was faster, stronger, and no less intelligent than the average human.

Conchobar looked up often, tracking the sun’s path across the sky. Only eight more hours until it abandoned them. It was thanks to this preoccupation that he was the first to see a woman hurtling through the sky towards them, carried by a pair of swirling grey clouds. Conchobar had seen a cloud just like these two before, during the storm. They were air elementals.

“Guys!” Conchobar spluttered, “I think Emrys sent us some backup!”

Most of the lookouts snapped their heads up to look at the strange sight, with a few of the more twitchy ones firing their crossbows blindly. Most missed, but one struck the pale human woman. Another narrowly missed a dark grey cat she had nestled in her lap.

“By all the Nine Hells, control your crew!” She shouted at the captain as her mounts settled onto the deck. “A lucky shot could have scuppered the whole operation.”

The woman was a dignified Chelish human, dressed in a worn naval uniform. Her bright yellow eyes hinted at a mixed bloodline, but other than that she was a classic Chelish beauty. Mile long legs, a substantial bust, and glossy black hair pinned back in a severe bun. She plucked the crossbow bolt from her shoulder, muttering to the dark gray cat about trigger happy idiots. The wound closed, leaving the punctured uniform as the only evidence of her injury. She allowed the cat to hop down onto the deck before approaching a thoroughly flabbergasted Plugg.

“Lady Sosima Aulamaxa of Kintargo.” She introduced herself, “I’ve already surrendered myself into the custody of your mage, Mr. M’Dair, in return for safe passage off of the island. He allowed me to keep my arms and armor, so that I might assist in your defense.”

“I see,” Plugg said, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance; a shame that we could not meet in happier times. You will be an honored guest on my ship until we can arrange for you to be returned to your family.”

He bowed, kissing Lady Aulamaxa’s knuckle. It was a very pretty way of saying she’d be a hostage, but Plugg seemed to be rather taken with her. She gave him a warm smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and accepted his invitation. Conchobar knew of the Aulamaxas; great patron of the arts from northern Cheliax. They could pay any reasonable ransom.

Conchobar was distracted from the ongoing conversation by the cat, who padded right up to him. It was a dark gray beast with a white starburst pattern on its chest, and began speaking in a soft tenor voice.

“Excuse me, are you Mr. Shortstone?” He asked, and waited for Conchobar’s dumbfounded nod, “I was told to seek you out. Do you know where the injured are being kept? We can take one or two of them back to the mountain base where they can receive proper treatment. Quickly, please. We need to make several trips before nightfall.”

The Silvanshee spoke loudly enough to be heard across the deck. Conchobar grinned. The whole scenario was just slightly too theatrical to be an accident. Plugg was too busy welcoming foreign nobility to even notice that the other visitor had entirely ignored the chain of command, instead approaching Emrys’s one ally still on deck.

“Sure, buddy.” Conchobar agreed. “We wouldn’t want to delay Emrys’s plan.”

That crazy son of a bitch might just save them all.

••••••••••

Fuckfuckfuck this was a stupid plan! 

Extreme vertigo seized me as I soared over the island, back to the Man’s Promise. I desperately wanted to cling for dear life, but there was nothing to cling to. Handfuls of elemental squeezed through my fingers like water, and any time I moved it felt like I was sinking through the creature. The damp substance enveloped my legs, but shifted so often that I never felt steady.

This is why we sent Sosima first. She’s heavier than us and didn’t fear death. The elementals are clearly able to support us, just as they supported Sandara. Not to mention that we can levitate if it does drop us. Look at the goblin, she’s having a wonderful time. (Autohypnosis check 6+1=7) 

Shut up! I know! 

Sending Sosima first had been an obvious choice. She intended to die before midnight, so even if she were dropped in the middle of the woods that was a net win. She’d respawn in the ocean, and make her way back to us as a Gillman. She would have preferred to have her head quickly and cleanly chopped off by Cog as the resident lay priest of death, but she was thankfully willing to be a team player.

We’d even taken off her earrings and swapped her dress and spear for a formal dress uniform and sword, just in case her body was dragged off by ghouls. I wasn’t sure why Aaron had stockpiled women’s clothing along with mens, but I chose to believe he always hoped some other survivors would stay and keep him company. Other options were substantially more awkward to imagine.

The next person to send had been Sandara; channeling positive energy was such a trump card against the undead that she was worth any two of us. More importantly, she could get the more lightly injured members of the crew ready to fight again. Even with depleted spell slots, she could heal hundreds of hit points across the crew if they bunched up. We had stuffed her pockets full of Syl’s salves, just to stretch her magic a little bit further.

It took about three hours for the air elementals and Silvanshee interpreter to make a round trip to and from the Man’s Promise. I’d done the math, and that meant we had time for four trips before dusk. Rowe and I could both see in the dark and had powerful ranged attacks; we had to make it to the ship.

Struck with inspiration, I realized that Rowe and I were both lightweight enough for a single elemental to carry us. If we doubled up, they could fly back and fetch Cog before dusk. Syl would stay with Rosie and the disabled crew members.

Rowe cackled with joy as we neared the ship, clearly enjoying the ride. I was just a bit too queasy to make a good impression, personally, so I left it in Autopilot’s hands.

I hopped down the last eight feet onto the deck, eager to be out of my minion’s grasp. I relaxed my body as I did so, and managed to absorb most of the force with a roll. I hopped to my feet easily, before the goblin had even reached the deck. (Acrobatics (dance) 13+10=23)

I brushed dust off of the Chelish suit and dress shirt I’d borrowed from Ivey; my own clothes had grown quite dingy over the last month. I wore it casually, shirt unbuttoned in the Shackles style. Appearances are important when herding sheep. 

“Mister Plugg,” I said, echoing his customary address towards me, “I’m glad to see you held things together in my absence.” 

I turned away from him as unimportant. Sandara would have all the information I needed, and Plugg was in no position to answer the insult without seeming petty. Escalation was out of the question while a hostile army was lurking just out of sight. (Intimidate 9+10+5=24)

“Sandara, what’s the situation?” I asked, back straight and heels clicked together. 

“They’re definitely massing for an attack, Captain.” She answered with a smirk. “The cat says they are hanging back, about a quarter mile inland. No major attacks today, thanks to Mister Plugg’s vigil. Caulky and Sosima led a team to gather scrap wood from the old fishing village for repairs. They had to fight off ghouls the first few times, but I think they might actually come back with something worth having soon.”

“Silence.” Plugg commanded, standing tall and glaring at me. “I am still the captain of this ship. This is no time for insubordination.”

“Of course, Mister Plugg.” I said with a salute, before chiding Sandara. “Sandara, you really shouldn’t use pet names outside the bedroom. Between that and day drinking, you’ve earned some disciplinary action. Apologize to Mister Plugg; he’s done his very best with the resources he had available.” It’s not his fault he’s woefully inadequate. (Bluff (innuendo) 13+10=23)

“Of course, Emrys,” she turned to Plugg. “I’m so sorry, Captain. I hope you can forgive me.”

She batted her eyelashes at him and lowered her face coquettishly. Her voice dripped with submission. Her entire demeanor shifted the second she turned away from him. A few nervous chuckles escaped the crew.

“So what’s the plan?” Sandara asked me. “We’ve got about thirty people, two clouds, and a cat. I’ve only got a few spells left, and one is invisibility.”

“Seems obvious to me.” I said, “We get ready to fight through the night. You can go take a rest if you’d like, Sebastien. I’ll handle things here. You’ll need your strength.”

For some reason, my winning smile did not convince him to leave me in charge.