We had barely assessed the damage to our reconquered vessel, and spent some time aiding and interrogating our new prisoners, when we saw the ominous silhouette of a ship approaching the bay. It was the Kieran frigate we had encountered earlier, and they had followed either us or the coastline, to haunt us at quite an inopportune time.
Our ship had its deck still soaked in blood and debris from the battle, and with the skiff still tied alongside, we were unlikely to outrun the frigate this time around, especially since leaving Shark Bay and our crew behind was not an option to us.
The frigate signalled us to stop and await boarding. After a short but intense discussion, and hopelessly outgunned, we decided to comply for the time being, and thus we watched as the ship went alongside and a gangplank was lowered. While an older man clad in the attire of a wind mage watched from the frigate, a contingent of a dozen marines boarded our ship, led by a well-dressed, black-haired woman, presumably a local.
And thus we got to know Captain Serena of the frigate Dauntless, of the Kieran Privateer fleet, who exchanged introductions with our Captain Cortés. She informed us that she had been informed of an act of piracy involving a Kieran silk trader, and intended to apprehend our vessel and arrest us. Most of us, at any rate, for she acted particularly leniently towards Carlton. They clearly shared a mutual past, although she appeared to remember it more clearly than Carlton did, and one could suspect that she was quite smitten with our friend. However, Carlton honestly confessed membership in our crew, and he and the captains provided several outlandish suggestions how to proceed.
The fate of our missing crew was still pending, and it was suggested that while the rest of us stayed here as a collateral, Carlton would go ashore alone, find and liberate our friends and request them to go into captivity as well, as the nice Kieran privateer captain would very much enjoy having the complete collection.
Barraged by this nonsense, our resolve fell, one by one, and while I had vocally opposed the act of piracy and felt there was justice in having to deal with the consequences, the others found it worthwhile to attempt an assault on our captors. A short but brutal combat ensued, and while the other wind mage correctly singled out Master Krastus as the most dangerous target, he failed to subdue him in time, and a violent blast of wind and debris rushed across deck, wreaking havoc on the hapless marines. After mere seconds, Captain Serena found herself alone, surrounded and cut off from the gangplank, and the Kierans surrendered.
The frigate was ours, and while the Kierans would not endanger their captain, they remained loyal to their cause, and refused to join our crew wholesale. The captain herself, however, found that the prospect of joining Carlton was more appealing than facing the consequences of a defeat, and decided to join our crew.
Fortunately, it was agreed to be lenient towards the Kierans, and the Captain decided that we transfer command to the Dauntless, and leave our old sloop, stripped of valuables, to them. We realised how fortunate we had been, against all odds, as we supervised the Kierans carrying our crates of fruit onto the frigate. A short while later, we bade our trusty sloop farewell. As the frigate slowly drifted back towards Shark Bay, towing our borrowed boarding skiff, we found that we would need to enlarge our merry band even further in order to efficiently operate the larger vessel. The others considered a possible renaming of the ship and suggested all sorts of moronic simianisms, but in the end, luckily, no consensus was reached.
When we had docked in Shark Bay, a younger fellow introduced himself as the new harbourmaster, thanked us profusely for having retired the previous jobholder, and offered us a discount rate for all the paperwork. He professed to be too smart to deceive us, lest he share the fate of his predecessor, and would not make us any trouble during our stay. In return, we entrusted the borrowed skiff into his care, whose previous owner, the charmingly named Clawfoot Pete, as we were informed, had expired earlier when the local sea life had taken a liking to his limp, floating body.
To find out where our fellows had been taken, we resolved to go ashore and make contact with the local slavers. We found the the market was dominated by three traders. Two of these, a half-ugak and a retired pirate lady, dealt mainly in household and plantation slaves, while the third one, a visitor aptly named Lafleur, specialised in "pleasure slaves", and had about half a dozen girls and young women presented in a degrading manner. What a heinous thing to do, and a disgrace to my homeland! In private, I discussed with Mistress Saran how to rectify this.
Alas, neither of the traders had our crew, and Carlton suggested that we collect further information in that grog tavern. We spent some time and money there, conversing with the wench and several patrons, who suggested that one of the Ugak tribes from the nearby mountains regularly procured human prisoners from Shark Bay, for use in their vile rituals. We had witnessed such a thing before, and were alarmed at the possibility.
Mistress Saran went looking for someone who would know more, and we met a middle-aged, rather unkempt woman named Thallia, who had a speech impediment and a visible history of dental problems. We offered her a large salary to guide us to the dwellings of said tribe, and a sizable bonus if we would reach our destination in time. The trip might lead us into the mountainside, for which we were rather ill-prepared. I, for one, prepared for a life at sea and coast, owned neither suitable attire nor footwear. Time was of the essence, though. As the tribe would sacrifice regularly, according to the phases of the moon, we estimated we had seven days at best. We rushed to purchase at least a basic amount of blankets, rope and other tools for mountaineering.
The evening came quickly, and Mistress Saran and I decided to further investigate into Lafleur's business. We found that his slaves were taken from his stall at the market, to his villa on the outskirts of town, where they were imprisoned for the night in wooden shacks, guarded by about ten armed mercenaries. Clearly, his vile business was quite profitable, and we would hold off our plans until later.
The next morning, we left town for the inland, guided by that Thallia woman, and after a long, exhausting but uneventful march across the rocky countryside, we reached a small recess where we wearily set up our makeshift camp. I was not among the watches scheduled by Cortés, and could sleep undisturbed until morning. Nothing eventful had happened during the night, and we packed up to proceed. In the afternoon, we reached our goal, surprisingly early, and were treated to a sight both horrifying and familiar. Through the undergrowth, we spotted some ugak, a shaman among them, preparing another of these vile pools for a ritual, while several cages containing prisoners, including our Scurillian friend, sat nearby.
Gravitating towards swift action, the Captain decided that I accompany him and the Mage in a stealthy approach on the right flank, while our markspeople prepared to cover us with musket fire if we were spotted. Alas, this plan quickly went awry, when we were detected not only by those ugak we could see, but also by several others hidden amongst the vegetation. Master Krastus valiantly charged ahead, yet his magic was no big help to an onslaught from multiple sides, and he was quickly surrounded. Captain Cortés, trying to cover our temporary retreat, was ambushed and succumbed to our foes. Meanwhile, several of the ugaks had assembled at the pool, and petitioning their vile gods for aid, summoned forth a humongous serpent, far larger than the ape monster we had previously fought, that raised menacingly from the pool. Had our luck finally turned?
No comments:
Post a Comment