Blathering
Recently finished a story based on my character in World of Warcraft
and a few of the friends i've got there. Looking for editing and
feedback, but mind you, it's not short. The biggest thing i need
extra eyes for is whether or not i left any logical gaps, where the
story made sense in my head, but when i transcribed it down i left out
a piece of the action so you jump from point A to C.
Oh, another warning, this is written with a familiarity with warcraft in mind, so there's probably dozens of things that won't make sense or aren't explained or physically described. Hopefully those aren't killers, but please point out any that are.
Alternately, ignore this and leave me to my crackpot ramblings and little games where i enjoy saying "Arr!" a lot.
The Salty Sailor Inn, Booty Bay
It was a quiet evening in Booty Bay with only two barfights and a sea giant raising a ruckus so far. Baron Revilgaz wandered into the Salty Sailor inn, waving to the patrons he recognized before heading to a table where Fleet Master Seahorn was waiting. The dapper goblin and large tauren sat down, ordering up a glass of wine and cask of rum, respectively. Nixxrax made a rare showing out from behind the bar as he delivered the drinks and left the two important men to their business.
“So Seahorn,” the Baron began. “I’ve been seeing a lot of workers coming through town lately, but how are things looking where it counts?”
“Well sir, the Bloodsails have been unable to establish more than a few tents on the southern beach, our rumors of treasure have kept a constant assault from third parties on the beachhead just north of town, and the latest word is that Firallon’s packing up to take his ships and pull back, further into the open ocean. If we keep this up we might be able to drive them off for good. It was a brilliant idea you had to use the local stream of mercenaries against them.”
“Yes, yes, it was,” the goblin nodded while taking a sip of wine. “But that’s not what I meant. How are things looking where it counts? In the bank? How’s our cashflow? Paying all these mercenaries can’t be cheap!”
The tauren pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. “Oh. Well, that’s not quite so good. We’re still turning profit, but only just barely. Our payout to the mercenaries is significant, but at least a fair chunk of that money is coming back to us through the town when the get their equipment repaired or replenished after their commissions. That’s only a small portion returning to us, though. By my current estimate, at this rate we’ll be operating at a...” Seahorn paused, taking a deep breath before speaking the words he knew every goblin loathed to hear. “Operating at a loss... in one month’s time.”
“If only we had Steelgut and his ships back we’d be set... We’ve got to find them and find them fast. We’ve been ignoring the problem because he’s taken extended trips like this before, but this time it’s just too much.”
“Well sir, we’ve always got the Maiden’s Voyage. A break from Ratchet duty would do her crew good, and then we could find Steelgut.”
“Are you insane?!?” The Baron shouted, nearly knocking over the glasses with the force of his shock. “Do you realize just how much money that ship brings in to Booty Bay? The chamber of commerce would have us out on our asses if we stopped the ferry and all the shoppers it brings in! Not to mention, our cut of those profits. We need Booty Bay and Booty Bay needs us, and we do not disrupt that.”
“Sorry sir, terribly sorry. I was merely trying to keep my eye on all the options.”
The Baron sat there, his left eye still twitching at the previous outburst. He just sat there holding his wine and muttering “options.... eye... options...” Seahorn tried to ignore his employer’s fit and pretended to check over the numbers in his notebook again. When he glanced up he was surprised to see the Baron staring at him, with a clear look in his eyes. “Seahorn, go get Catelyn.”
The King Llane’s Revenge, Ratchet
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Captain Gul’tek Blacktusk of the Pirates of Kalimdor wandered up the gangplank to his ship, the King Llane’s Revenge. The old orc warrior took a deep breath of salty air coming in from the Great Sea and reveled in the brief joy he got every time he set foot on the deck of his own ship. It was times like this that he could completely forget the dusty red plains of his home world, Draenor. The sight of the Maiden’s Voyage on the horizon reminded him that time was somewhat precious, so Blacktusk made haste down to the officer’s galley. The galley was close to full at this time of day, but all heads still turned as he walked through the door.
Boven, one of the many native sons of Kalimdor on the crew, greeted him first. “Ahoy, cap’n!”
“Oi mates,” he returned. “I’m gonna try and keep this brief, as there’s a lot t’do. We’ve got a job first of all. Your old friend and mine, Baron Revilgaz, needs us t’go out searchin for the Maiden’s Folly, the Harbinger and the Spirit of Silverpine. We’re takin out the Llane first thing in the morning, heading towards Lordaeron, where they were last spotted.”
Muajin interrupted with the question that was on more than a few minds. “Is that cheap green bastard paying well at least? A chain shirt for that last job was an insult.”
“Well...” the captain began. His hesitation earned him only a collection of blank stares and frowns. Scathach, a former human sorceress, started asking the question on everybody’s mind, but paused as she heard footsteps coming down from the forecastle. Blacktusk took the pause to try and salvage some of his respect. “We’re gettin paid, mind ye. Cash this time. Just not all that much of it.”
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“So why did you take the job?” Scathach asked. Blacktusk started searching for the wording when the guest from Booty Bay walked up behind him and into the galley. The short human female was almost entirely out of place among the assembled pirates, but was also a familiar face to most of them and didn’t cause alarm.
“Yeah, you lot remember Catelyn right? Of the Blackwater. Well she’s comin with us.” He tried to hide his grin, but didn’t completely succeed. A handful of giggles could be heard from behind raised mugs. Catelyn smirked as her eyes darted over to the orc.
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“I’m going to go check on the transfer of the supplies, captain.” With a wink, she left.
“Alright, alright, enough of that.” It was impossible to keep a group like this orderly, but Blacktusk seemed to try anyway. “Grook, you’re my second on this voyage. I want you and Boog t’rrange the deckhands and set up shifts. Scath and Nephrite, yer comin too. If we find em without food or water havin ye both there’ll be the quickest way t’distribute it. And Sinviss, yer with us too. Flayer, yer in charge here while we’re gone. I ain’t expecting trouble, but if ye find some, you, Boven, Mystiq, Muajin and the rest should be able t’handle it. Any questions?”
The King Llane’s Revenge, The Great Sea, South of Ambermill
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The King Llane’s Revenge sailed low in the water, weighed down by the relief and repair supplies bound for Steelgut’s ships. Activity both above and below decks was heightened from its usual calm murmur due to the addition of a dozen sailors from the Blackwater Raiders, the relief and repair crew. With all of these extra eyes and ears, rumors and jokes were also spreading like flame across the ship, not in the least hindered by Catelyn the Blade’s presence and the hints of the history between her and the ship’s captain.
Blacktusk surveyed his crew from the bridge deck, feeling very pleased with everything. They’d made decent time considering the extra weight and were as on schedule as this crew ever was. He kept the evening sun out of his eye by holding up a map as he tried to scan for signs of the missing ships. Growing impatient, he started down the steps to pester the crew when a call came down from Boogalah in the crow’s nest.
“Ahoy! Storm ahead!”
“Storm?” Grook called back from the wheel. “How big and can you tell which way it’s headed?”
“Seems to be still,” came the reply. “And i’d guess it’s maybe 50 meters across.”
Scathach chimed in from the forecastle. “50 meters? That can’t be natural.”
With a nod between them, Grook and Blacktusk agreed. Grook held the ship steady towards the storm as Tusk boomed, “All Hands On Deck! Cannons manned and loaded, cargo and hatches secured! Lookin like we might ‘ave a fight on our hands, folks!”
The ship burst into a flurry of activity as the sailors prepped for battle. Cannons were primed and loaded, swords were sharpened and the sails were ready to be drawn. Boogalah came down from the crow’s nest and donned her armor. Scathach and Nephrite focused their minds and drank plenty of water for the coming conflict. Sinviss paced around anxiously, eager to see what foes they would face.
As the Llane sailed along, the storm and its cause soon came into view. The Pirates saw a fight ahead of them between at least two vessels and a whole nest of naga. Those familiar with naga suggested that the storm was the work of the sea witches, although from this distance it was impossible to tell which ship it was aimed at. After another minute of sailing along, Blacktusk was able to make out the ships’ flags through his spyglass; The Harbinger of the Blackwater Raiders and The Damsel’s Luck of the Bloodsail Buccaneers.
“Bloodsails! Here!” the captain spat, throwing down his spyglass in his anger.
Catelyn appeared beside him and handed him back the glass. Tusk looked at her as the human simply smiled and said, “Well then, let’s go get ‘em.”
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“ARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!” Tusk looked to the bow and saw Sinviss standing there, bellowing. The cry was quickly taken up by the entire crew, guests included, and the fight was thick in their blood.
The Llane moved within firing range of the battle, but they were ordered to hold fire as the Harbinger and the Luck were too close together and they couldn’t afford to add to the friendly ship’s damage. From this point though, all onboard the Llane could see what was going on; it appeared as if the Harbinger had been sailing west when it was assaulted and boarded by the Luck. The tumult of their battle must have roused the local naga who came and seemed to desire nothing more than to sink both ships.
“Head for the Harbinger! All Blackwaters and half the regular crew board her as soon as possible! We’re here t’save it first and foremost!”
“Aye-aye” the crew echoed.
The ship banked to port as Grook executed a wide turn to pull in broadsides to the Harbinger. They were on the edge of the storm, a hundred meters or so from the Harbinger when their progress was suddenly slowed. The sea below them churned and hundreds of clawed and scaly hands rose from the depths and gripped the hull. The naga forces worked their way up the side as others of their number clung to the ship, dragging it to a complete halt. The first naga over the rail was cut down immediately by a grinning Sinviss, but the dozen immediately after it pushed the crew back. With a cry, the whole crew drew their blades and tried to beat back the wave of sea beasts. Grook drew his blades, realizing that the wheel was useless for now, and stood back to back with Boogalah as the naga advanced, coming now from all sides. Blacktusk was about to join them when Catelyn, staring at the Harbinger through his spyglass, tugged on his sleeve.
“Gul’tek, honey. You might want to see this.”
He took the glass and looked where she was pointing, grimacing as it came into focus.
“Ironpatch....”
Blacktusk put away the spyglass and sheathed his blades. Digging through his collection of flasks briefly, he found a bottle of Nogg’s Special Elixer and downed it. Testing for the desired effect, he found that after a quick jump he fell slower than usual. “Sin!” he shouted behind him into the battle. “C’mere!” Sinviss pushed the remains of a naga off of the end of her pike with her foot and went to the bow.
“Yessir Cap’n?”
“Throw me. Quick.”
“Hehehehehehehehe. Alright!” She holstered her weapon and attempted to lift the captain, testing his weight. “No good, you won’t make it.”
Blacktusk spit on the deck before turning around and shouting again. “Scath! C’mere!”
The Forsaken backed away from the warrior she was fighting and let two of the deck hands occupy its attention. She then turned to approach the captain.
“Yeah?”
“Sin’s gotta throw me.”
Scathach paused and blinked before replying. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” The set of his jaw and grimace in his face lent weight to his words.
With a sigh, Scathach began casting. Blacktusk used the moment to yell at Grook that the younger orc was now in charge of the ship. After a few tense seconds she found she had successfully turned her captain into a sheep. Sinviss lifted him up easily and laughed as she took a few steps back, got a running start, and tossed the captain over to the Harbinger. The warrior whooped and cheered as she saw him crash into a few Bloodsails on the Blackwater’s ship. She turned to cheer with Scathach and Catelyn only to find herself alone. Sinviss shrugged slightly to herself, drew her pike and rejoined the fray.
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The eyes of an herbivore are set wide and gave an unfamiliar view to Blacktusk as he hurtled through the air into the melee beyond. The sensation reminded him of a particularly rough bender from a few years previously, only with more wool. Scathach and Sinviss’s timing was near perfect, with the sheep transmutating back to an orc after only one roll along the slick deck of the defending ship. Within two breaths he was on his feat, blades drawn, beating back a naga from a weary and shocked crewman. As soon as the snake beast went limp, he turned and ran to the bridge deck where he’d last spotted Ironpatch. The melee on the Harbinger was pure chaos up close, with Bloodsails, Blackwaters and naga swinging wildly, barely slowing if they saw their attacks aimed at one of their fellows. Blacktusk heard a goblin voice, First Mate Nilzlix, attempting to call out orders and create a cohesive defense out of the Harbinger’s crew, but from the orc’s point of view it wasn’t about to happen any time soon. He reached the ship’s wheel, still gripped by a greviously wounded ogre, Lolo, and spat as he saw no sign of Ironpatch. He scanned the area for any sign of the other orc, when a clang to his left shocked him back to his immediate surroundings.
“Gotta be more careful, Gul’tek” Catelyn said as she followed through on her riposte of the naga’s axe. The beast hissed and lunged as she brought up the dagger in her other hand, catching it beneath the chin and killing it.
“Cate? You followed me? How?”
“You don’t grow up the daughter of an Archmage of Dalaran without learning a few tricks. And for the record, I’m not the only one.” She gestured with her sword to the fight below where Scathach was holding back a pair of Bloodsail warlocks with a series of magical bolts and counterspells. Blacktusk grinned with pride.
“Y’seen that traitor bastard yet?”
Catelyn replied with another gesture, focusing their attention on a small mob of Blackwater sailors who were being tossed on their backs, clearing the view as they fell away. The two pirates above could clearly see Ironpatch in the midst of the fight. Blacktusk roared in fury and charged. Catelyn had to run to keep up, but stopped to deflect another incoming axe-head from the captain. Tusk leaped off of the bridge and collided squarely with Ironpatch, cushioning his landing. The Bloodsail orc stood quickly and stared at the captain, surprised to see his old enemy out here. The two squared off as they had many times in the past, adjusting stances ever so slightly before they were willing to charge. It was Ironpatch who made the first move.
“Get him!” he yelled to a few nearby swordsmen and warlocks. Those not engaged with either naga or Blackwaters turned and advanced at the order while Ironpatch ran back to the forecastle.
Sinviss was a dervish of death to the naga back on the King Llane’s Revenge. Nephrite kept a post by the mast where he kept up a steady stream of countermagic to the spells of the few sea witches. Grook and Boogalah were working with the rest of the crew and trying to keep a defensive position on the main deck.
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Neprhrite shouted above the din of battle, “We gotta do sometin! Dey keep comin!”
Grook’s reply was lost as the ship lurched and a thunder-like crack was heard from the starboard side. A shout from below drew everybody’s attention, but the naga kept attacking the main group.
“On it, bossmon.” With a flash, Nephrite was in the cargo area.
“Ooooh me too!” added Sinviss as she rushed off.
Grook tried to rally the nervous crew. “Stick to it! We’re still working up here. Whether they come from above or below, they’re dead!”
Nephrite saw the breach in the hull first. The naga warriors were pouring through the hole in the side of the ship as the witches behind them held the wall of water down to a trickle. Before he could decide what to do though, Sinviss charged past him. The snake beast in the lead was cut clean in two by the slash of her spearhead. The rest of the invaders growled and charged as Sinviss met them all with a smile on her face. Nephrite pondered the situation, considering how to save the ship from sinking while stopping the naga at the same time. He reached out with his sense of magic to trace the focus of the sea witch’s spell, easily finding that a single naga sorceress was acting as the focus.
“Dey may be strong, but dey not faced da voodoo before” he muttered to himself as the plan formed in his mind. “Deadone, take out da witch in da middle of de five othas quicklike!”
Sinviss replied with a nod and braced herself for a charge. The ship rocked again as a new breach opened up on the far side of the hold, with another score of naga warriors already forcing their way through. Nephrite muttered a quick word of power to chill the warriors around Sinviss to the floor, giving her a clear path to the first hole. She charged with impossible speed and dove headfirst into the wall of water where the ship met the ocean. The naga witches on the other side were shocked to inaction by a boldness they had never seen from a land-dweller before. Sinviss used her momentum and the element of surprise to stab the lead sorceress square in the chest without any interference. The sorceress’s last breath emerged as a small bubble and the walls of water came crashing in on Nephrite from both sides. His eyes opened behind his mask, glowing an icy white as he forced every drop of water for twenty meters around to instantly freeze. The naga forcing their way towards the witch doctor were first bowled over by the force of the wave, then flash frozen, trapped in massive blocks of ice. Nephrite blinked away the magic and surveyed his handiwork. The ship wasn’t about to sink anytime soon, and the naga down here were stopped. Now if only Sinviss could make it out unharmed it would be a perfect plan.
Meanwhile, Back At the Gulch:
Mystiq: stupid fat tauren
Flayer: Where’d you guys go?
Boven: [Troll] Eya chezu juman
Flayer: Wow, it’s never done that before!
Mystiq: stupid gnomish shrink ray. Stupid fat tauren
Flayer: Must’ve used too many flasks of mojo when i primed it or something
Boven: [Troll] Razu gala aya voodoo
Flayer: Wait, Muajin was around here somewhere. I’m going to get him to translate.
Muajin: [Frog] Ribbit.
Flayer: Wow! It’s never had that good range before, either! That was some powerful mojo!
The Harbinger, The Great Sea, South of Ambermill
Scathach, Catelyn and Blacktusk stood in a tight group, swords flashing, keeping the Bloodsails attacks at bay. Scathach and Catelyn threw out quick counterspells now and then to hold back the warlock’s assault. The rain pelted down all around them as they desperately tried to keep their ground while outnumbered. The bare bones crew of the Harbinger was scattered around the ship, fighting with other Bloodsails or naga or both. Blacktusk scanned around whenever he had a free moment to try and track Ironpatch, but the other orc was already out of sight.
Catelyn whipped around her cutlass to disarm an enemy pirate, allowing Blacktusk to stab him with his rapier. “Gul’tek honey, you gotta think of something!” She interrupted herself for a quick parry to the right. “We can’t keep this up!” Blacktusk only grunted in reply and refocused on the fight at hand. A quick wind whipped around the combat as behind them, Scathach focused upon evoking her magical ability, staring upwards as the flow of mana renewed her spirits. As the flow faded she continued to look upwards, entranced as the storm clouds above dissipated in a matter of seconds. All around the ship eyes glanced upwards as the rain stopped and the starlight streamed down on the three ships. The naga warriors and witches glanced up with all the rest, but couldn’t return their attention to the fight. A half a dozen fell to the swords of the various human pirates before the rest snapped back and began to flee. There wasn’t even a moment of confusion before the Harbinger’s crew let out an Arr of victory and redoubled their efforts against the Bloodsails.
“Nicely done, cap’n.” Scathach said as she returned to the melee. “I’ll be nice and not ask how you did it” she added with a wink. The Blackwaters came up behind them with a rush and engaged the remaining swashbucklers. Suddenly freed from the press of bodies, Blacktusk took off towards the bow at a full run, hoping to find Ironpatch.
The captain reached the stairs to the forecastle but gave a quick check through the door to the cabin underneath. Inside he saw Shakes O’Breen, a human and the captain of the Harbinger. Shakes was sitting at a small table, alternating between cleaning the remains of a naga off of his blade and cleaning out a large gash on his leg with rum. This would normally qualify for some comment from Blacktusk, but tonight he simply ran up the stairs and took up his fighting stance as he faced off against Ironpatch.
Ironpatch grinned. “Gul’tek, you still care. Chasing me all this way.”
“You know me, Morg, Never can let go of the past.”
Ironpatch charged with a roar. The two orcs appeared evenly matched to all who noticed their fight. Ironpatch had a heavier swing and wielded a shield, but Blacktusk was quicker and managed to deflect his opponent’s blade with his main gauche nearly as well as he could have with a shield. The blades flew around like bolts of lightning, clanging and sparking as they met. Few strokes could follow through, and those that did left only scratches. Blacktusk briefly claimed an advantage when Ironpatch took a bad step, and the heavier orc was soon pushed to where his back was against the fore mast. As the captain lined up a stab with his rapier, fully intending to end this fight, Ironpatch dropped to his knees and shoved his shoulder into Blacktusk’s midsection. With a grunt and a mighty heave, Blacktusk was thrown behind him. The captain flailed out for any grip he could get and managed to catch part of the rigging over the main deck. The momentum of the throw had him spin completely around and he soon found himself over top of the rope between the masts. He said a quick prayer, lowered his body, and desperately tried to balance on the slick rope. Ironpatch watched this show fully expecting the captain to fall, his smirk changing quickly to a scowl as Blacktusk stood and smiled. He banged his shield against the mast and roared in rage before resuming his assault. Blacktusk moved back up the rope slightly and was shocked to see his old enemy manage to find footing and close within melee range. He gripped his new wound after a quick slash from Ironpatch cut his prized shirt as well as his upper arm. This brought his attention and his rapier to bear. Both duelists parried and slashed while attempting to force the other to have to focus more on their balance than their blade.
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Seconds felt like minutes as the weight of the swords and tension in their legs worked their muscles to exhaustion. It was during one of the many brief pauses in the fight that Blacktusk suddenly felt worried for the first time since arriving. The two orcs were both in defensive postures, considering their next actions, when Ironpatch smiled. Blacktusk was used to seeing him smirk or grin or gloat, but a true smile was a frightening thing. The captain only had a moment to consider what could cause this change in emotions before he was hit with a spell from one of the warlocks below and he found himself wracked with pain from fingertip to toe. His body seized up and he watched, almost as an outside observer, as he tilted over to the right. He could see and feel his legs go taut as his feet finally slipped from the precarious position he’d so carefully held. Almost resigning himself to defeat, he looked up again and saw Ironpatch standing over him. He saw the smug look in his opponent’s face, a face he’d wanted to carve up so many times in the past. Memory of their previous encounters fueled the rage he’d had to bury to remain focused on his balance, and he reached out with his right hand desperately grasping for the rope. His hand went up as his eye went down, watching his rapier fall to the deck below, taking its time in its descent. A jerk from his arm pulled his eye back up as his hand found the rope. The rage in Blacktusk’s heart was sated. The rope shook and jostled from the impact and Ironpatch’s face was one of pure fear as the heavier orc knew that he was about to drop. Ironpatch grasped out at Blacktusk as he fell, but his hand only found a piece of the captain’s sleeve, which tore away easily. Blacktusk kept his eye on his hand, willing it to keep its grip. A soft metallic thud from below gave him the confidence to look down again.
Below the dangling captain, Ironpatch was sprawled out on the deck. He groaned and rolled over to lie on his back, his shield still strapped to his arm and covering his chest like a blanket. His sword was nowhere to be seen, scattered and lost beneath the feet of the fighters still concentrating on their own lives elsewhere on the Harbinger’s deck. Blacktusk eyed Ironpatch and heard the wheezing breath coming from below. “Not again,” he said to himself. “We’re not goin through this again.” He took a deep breath and drew his leg up so that he could draw his enchanted azsharite dagger from its sheath in his boot. Confidant he had a good grip on the dagger in his left hand, he let go of the rope. Blade and knee leading the way, he had no trouble making his landing, or finding his mark. Ironpatch released his last breath and lay limp on the deck, the pommel of Blacktusk’s dagger sticking out from his shield and the chest beneath it. The captain fell prone, exhausted, and hoped that everybody else was having as good a day as he was.
Sinviss dashed over the boarding plank between the King Llane’s Revenge and the Harbinger into the remains of the fight. A half a dozen other sailors followed after her before Grook pulled the ship away to a more maneuverable distance. Nephrite appeared beside Sinviss before she ran off again towards the aft, to where most of the remaining Bloodsails had retreated. Many of the Bloodsails had already fled back to the Damsel’s Luck, still moored bow to aft behind the Harbinger, but a few holdouts were still fighting. Catelyn and Scathach walked back towards the combat, each supporting the weary captain by a shoulder. He forced himself to stand up as he greeted the new arrivals.
“Neph, Sin, good t’see ye again.”
“You no lookin so good bossmon.”
“Yeah, I know, but it coulda been a lot worse, mate.”
“Speakin ah which... ahhhh... ah got some bad news bout da Llane, mon.”
Blacktusk looked over to his ship and saw for the first time the large block of ice that was now a necessary part of the hull’s structure. He stood there speechless for a moment before finally muttering, “damn...”
From the other ship he could see Grook and Boogalah waving as they stood among a pile of naga bodies. They stood slightly awkwardly and Boog was holding her left arm at an odd angle, but Blacktusk knew from the pile at their feet that they’d had a good night too.
“Hey! Cap’n!” Sinviss called from the other direction. They all turned to see her standing over Ironpatch’s body. “Want me to take out the trash?”
“Yeah Sin. Think I’d be happy t’not see that again...”
Sinviss started crouching down before she caught a glare from Scathach. She decided that perhaps the mage was right and that it would not be polite to dispose of the corpse in that fashion. Sinviss hefted the body onto her shoulder and tossed it over the starbord rail. The collected Pirates of Kalimdor glanced at the orc’s body as it sank slowly into the lapping waves below.
They returned to the aft to see that all the Bloodsails still alive were now cowed and on board their own ship. They had pulled back the boarding planks from their bow and the two ships were now drifting slowly apart as the attackers made ready to set sail. Blacktusk yelled out for his crew to hold as he saw some of them preparing to send their own planks over.
“That’s enough! We’re pretty beat up, but they’re downright crippled. Toss any bullets or pot-shots ye want at em, but nobody goes over! I ain’t losin any more of ye on this trip.” They obeyed and stopped preparations for more melee, but all eagerly got out their bows and guns and started lobbing shots at the warlocks and their allies.
Blacktusk looked around and saw Captain Steelgut limping his way up from the hold. He started walking slowly towards the dwarf, passing the magically fatigued wizards and the witch doctor as they all sat drinking. He was halfway towards the Maiden’s Folly’s captain when a sound came in on the breeze that froze his blood to ice. “By Doomhammer’s beard.” He turned his head and heard it well. He thought for a moment that this might be another of the nightmares he’d had frequently over the past five years, but the smells and pains of the night’s work assured him that this time, it was real. He turned to stare at the Damsel’s Luck and saw on her aft where a single warlock was charged and lit with an unnatural purple light. His head shot up and his eye scanned the clouds and sky for the hint of the Infernal he knew was up there. He’d seen the destruction those demons caused numerous times during the war against the Burning Legion and had always counted himself lucky and cursed to have never been in one of their paths. Lucky for surviving, cursed for having to watch the devastation with very little he could do about it. He scanned the sky but saw nothing except the moon and the stars. He started twitching, looking farther around, but his view was bordered in by the Harbinger’s masts and sails. “Wind,” he muttered. “Wind!” Twisting around he stared at his friends and just kept repeating as he pointed to the sky and sails. “Wind! Now! Wind!”
Scathach was the first to understand. She quickly got to her feet and began channeling all of her meager energy reserves into creating an arcane wind. Nephrite joined her next, his effort adding an icy chill to the growing force. Catelyn added her power last, bringing it to a full gale. The unnatural wind caught the sails and the Harbinger started moving forwards, sluggishly at first. Glancing behind them, Blacktusk saw that a few of the warlocks on the Damsel’s Luck saw what they were up to. With unheard orders, he could see a number of magic devouring felbeasts start to run towards that ship’s bow and leap towards the Harbinger. He never got to see whether they had sufficient force to span the gap as they were each brought down by a volley of fire from Sinviss and the rest of the crew. By this point a new sound could barely be heard above the sustained wind; a low whistling came from above. Blacktusk refused to look up, wanting to see the face of the summoning warlock as his plan failed so spectacularly. It wasn’t until just before impact that the captain realized the Damsel’s Luck had her sails up too, and had been moving along with them. He saw the Infernal very briefly before the flash of its impact with the deck of the Bloodsail ship blinded him temporarily. He ran to the aft rail and searched the roiling waters behind them as his vision cleared. Among the remains and debris from the other vessel, a dim green light could be seen sinking fast to the bottom of the ocean. Steelgut limped up beside him and stared out over the rail as well.
“Damn, laddie! Ye had that l’il trick planned out, did ye?”
“Just tryin’ t’find a use fer some ole nightmares, mate.”
Steelgut just nodded, either impressed or exhausted.
“So d’ye know a decent place we could put up kip for a few days while we patch up my ice cube of a ship?”
“Huh? Oh, aye. Faldir’s Cove, ‘bout ‘alf a day east. That’s where we’ve been hidin out waitin f’r repairs or reinforcements. Looks like we decided t’risk it home a wee bit too soon, eh?”
Epilogue
A handful of bubbles rose and popped on the Great Sea among the wreckage of the Damsel’s Luck. Mere moments later, a bruised and battered orc broke the surface and gasped for breath. His right eye was covered by a small metal plate and his left arm was limp and broken. His right hand gripped the pommel of a slightly green dagger made of some exotic material, which he plunged into a piece of wood floating by for a grip. He lay there for a few moments until he was satisfied that he was strong enough not to drown should he relax slightly. As he adjusted his hold on the dagger small pieces of a shattered purple jewel fell from his hand. It was obvious by the way that he had been so recently holding it that this jewel was both precious and recently broken. Ironpatch floated around for a few minutes and collected the survivors of the battle into a coherent group. “We’re not done. We’re making landfall. We’re going back home as soon as possible.” The warlocks and sailors around him nodded weakly. “Closest shore is north, so which way is north?” A nearby felbeast, one of the few demons to survive, waved its tentacles around briefly before indicating a very specific direction. The warlock nearby said, “That way.” He paused and breathed heavily for a few seconds before continuing. “Dalaran, it’s north of here. Shore’s that way.” Satisfied, Ironpatch tucked the green dagger into his belt and began swimming off in that direction.
end
And how did i feel after finally getting that story out of my head, after two weeks of it?
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Oh, another warning, this is written with a familiarity with warcraft in mind, so there's probably dozens of things that won't make sense or aren't explained or physically described. Hopefully those aren't killers, but please point out any that are.
Alternately, ignore this and leave me to my crackpot ramblings and little games where i enjoy saying "Arr!" a lot.
The Salty Sailor Inn, Booty Bay
It was a quiet evening in Booty Bay with only two barfights and a sea giant raising a ruckus so far. Baron Revilgaz wandered into the Salty Sailor inn, waving to the patrons he recognized before heading to a table where Fleet Master Seahorn was waiting. The dapper goblin and large tauren sat down, ordering up a glass of wine and cask of rum, respectively. Nixxrax made a rare showing out from behind the bar as he delivered the drinks and left the two important men to their business.
“So Seahorn,” the Baron began. “I’ve been seeing a lot of workers coming through town lately, but how are things looking where it counts?”
“Well sir, the Bloodsails have been unable to establish more than a few tents on the southern beach, our rumors of treasure have kept a constant assault from third parties on the beachhead just north of town, and the latest word is that Firallon’s packing up to take his ships and pull back, further into the open ocean. If we keep this up we might be able to drive them off for good. It was a brilliant idea you had to use the local stream of mercenaries against them.”
“Yes, yes, it was,” the goblin nodded while taking a sip of wine. “But that’s not what I meant. How are things looking where it counts? In the bank? How’s our cashflow? Paying all these mercenaries can’t be cheap!”
The tauren pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. “Oh. Well, that’s not quite so good. We’re still turning profit, but only just barely. Our payout to the mercenaries is significant, but at least a fair chunk of that money is coming back to us through the town when the get their equipment repaired or replenished after their commissions. That’s only a small portion returning to us, though. By my current estimate, at this rate we’ll be operating at a...” Seahorn paused, taking a deep breath before speaking the words he knew every goblin loathed to hear. “Operating at a loss... in one month’s time.”
“If only we had Steelgut and his ships back we’d be set... We’ve got to find them and find them fast. We’ve been ignoring the problem because he’s taken extended trips like this before, but this time it’s just too much.”
“Well sir, we’ve always got the Maiden’s Voyage. A break from Ratchet duty would do her crew good, and then we could find Steelgut.”
“Are you insane?!?” The Baron shouted, nearly knocking over the glasses with the force of his shock. “Do you realize just how much money that ship brings in to Booty Bay? The chamber of commerce would have us out on our asses if we stopped the ferry and all the shoppers it brings in! Not to mention, our cut of those profits. We need Booty Bay and Booty Bay needs us, and we do not disrupt that.”
“Sorry sir, terribly sorry. I was merely trying to keep my eye on all the options.”
The Baron sat there, his left eye still twitching at the previous outburst. He just sat there holding his wine and muttering “options.... eye... options...” Seahorn tried to ignore his employer’s fit and pretended to check over the numbers in his notebook again. When he glanced up he was surprised to see the Baron staring at him, with a clear look in his eyes. “Seahorn, go get Catelyn.”
The King Llane’s Revenge, Ratchet
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Captain Gul’tek Blacktusk of the Pirates of Kalimdor wandered up the gangplank to his ship, the King Llane’s Revenge. The old orc warrior took a deep breath of salty air coming in from the Great Sea and reveled in the brief joy he got every time he set foot on the deck of his own ship. It was times like this that he could completely forget the dusty red plains of his home world, Draenor. The sight of the Maiden’s Voyage on the horizon reminded him that time was somewhat precious, so Blacktusk made haste down to the officer’s galley. The galley was close to full at this time of day, but all heads still turned as he walked through the door.
Boven, one of the many native sons of Kalimdor on the crew, greeted him first. “Ahoy, cap’n!”
“Oi mates,” he returned. “I’m gonna try and keep this brief, as there’s a lot t’do. We’ve got a job first of all. Your old friend and mine, Baron Revilgaz, needs us t’go out searchin for the Maiden’s Folly, the Harbinger and the Spirit of Silverpine. We’re takin out the Llane first thing in the morning, heading towards Lordaeron, where they were last spotted.”
Muajin interrupted with the question that was on more than a few minds. “Is that cheap green bastard paying well at least? A chain shirt for that last job was an insult.”
“Well...” the captain began. His hesitation earned him only a collection of blank stares and frowns. Scathach, a former human sorceress, started asking the question on everybody’s mind, but paused as she heard footsteps coming down from the forecastle. Blacktusk took the pause to try and salvage some of his respect. “We’re gettin paid, mind ye. Cash this time. Just not all that much of it.”
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“So why did you take the job?” Scathach asked. Blacktusk started searching for the wording when the guest from Booty Bay walked up behind him and into the galley. The short human female was almost entirely out of place among the assembled pirates, but was also a familiar face to most of them and didn’t cause alarm.
“Yeah, you lot remember Catelyn right? Of the Blackwater. Well she’s comin with us.” He tried to hide his grin, but didn’t completely succeed. A handful of giggles could be heard from behind raised mugs. Catelyn smirked as her eyes darted over to the orc.
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“I’m going to go check on the transfer of the supplies, captain.” With a wink, she left.
“Alright, alright, enough of that.” It was impossible to keep a group like this orderly, but Blacktusk seemed to try anyway. “Grook, you’re my second on this voyage. I want you and Boog t’rrange the deckhands and set up shifts. Scath and Nephrite, yer comin too. If we find em without food or water havin ye both there’ll be the quickest way t’distribute it. And Sinviss, yer with us too. Flayer, yer in charge here while we’re gone. I ain’t expecting trouble, but if ye find some, you, Boven, Mystiq, Muajin and the rest should be able t’handle it. Any questions?”
The King Llane’s Revenge, The Great Sea, South of Ambermill
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The King Llane’s Revenge sailed low in the water, weighed down by the relief and repair supplies bound for Steelgut’s ships. Activity both above and below decks was heightened from its usual calm murmur due to the addition of a dozen sailors from the Blackwater Raiders, the relief and repair crew. With all of these extra eyes and ears, rumors and jokes were also spreading like flame across the ship, not in the least hindered by Catelyn the Blade’s presence and the hints of the history between her and the ship’s captain.
Blacktusk surveyed his crew from the bridge deck, feeling very pleased with everything. They’d made decent time considering the extra weight and were as on schedule as this crew ever was. He kept the evening sun out of his eye by holding up a map as he tried to scan for signs of the missing ships. Growing impatient, he started down the steps to pester the crew when a call came down from Boogalah in the crow’s nest.
“Ahoy! Storm ahead!”
“Storm?” Grook called back from the wheel. “How big and can you tell which way it’s headed?”
“Seems to be still,” came the reply. “And i’d guess it’s maybe 50 meters across.”
Scathach chimed in from the forecastle. “50 meters? That can’t be natural.”
With a nod between them, Grook and Blacktusk agreed. Grook held the ship steady towards the storm as Tusk boomed, “All Hands On Deck! Cannons manned and loaded, cargo and hatches secured! Lookin like we might ‘ave a fight on our hands, folks!”
The ship burst into a flurry of activity as the sailors prepped for battle. Cannons were primed and loaded, swords were sharpened and the sails were ready to be drawn. Boogalah came down from the crow’s nest and donned her armor. Scathach and Nephrite focused their minds and drank plenty of water for the coming conflict. Sinviss paced around anxiously, eager to see what foes they would face.
As the Llane sailed along, the storm and its cause soon came into view. The Pirates saw a fight ahead of them between at least two vessels and a whole nest of naga. Those familiar with naga suggested that the storm was the work of the sea witches, although from this distance it was impossible to tell which ship it was aimed at. After another minute of sailing along, Blacktusk was able to make out the ships’ flags through his spyglass; The Harbinger of the Blackwater Raiders and The Damsel’s Luck of the Bloodsail Buccaneers.
“Bloodsails! Here!” the captain spat, throwing down his spyglass in his anger.
Catelyn appeared beside him and handed him back the glass. Tusk looked at her as the human simply smiled and said, “Well then, let’s go get ‘em.”
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“ARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!” Tusk looked to the bow and saw Sinviss standing there, bellowing. The cry was quickly taken up by the entire crew, guests included, and the fight was thick in their blood.
The Llane moved within firing range of the battle, but they were ordered to hold fire as the Harbinger and the Luck were too close together and they couldn’t afford to add to the friendly ship’s damage. From this point though, all onboard the Llane could see what was going on; it appeared as if the Harbinger had been sailing west when it was assaulted and boarded by the Luck. The tumult of their battle must have roused the local naga who came and seemed to desire nothing more than to sink both ships.
“Head for the Harbinger! All Blackwaters and half the regular crew board her as soon as possible! We’re here t’save it first and foremost!”
“Aye-aye” the crew echoed.
The ship banked to port as Grook executed a wide turn to pull in broadsides to the Harbinger. They were on the edge of the storm, a hundred meters or so from the Harbinger when their progress was suddenly slowed. The sea below them churned and hundreds of clawed and scaly hands rose from the depths and gripped the hull. The naga forces worked their way up the side as others of their number clung to the ship, dragging it to a complete halt. The first naga over the rail was cut down immediately by a grinning Sinviss, but the dozen immediately after it pushed the crew back. With a cry, the whole crew drew their blades and tried to beat back the wave of sea beasts. Grook drew his blades, realizing that the wheel was useless for now, and stood back to back with Boogalah as the naga advanced, coming now from all sides. Blacktusk was about to join them when Catelyn, staring at the Harbinger through his spyglass, tugged on his sleeve.
“Gul’tek, honey. You might want to see this.”
He took the glass and looked where she was pointing, grimacing as it came into focus.
“Ironpatch....”
Blacktusk put away the spyglass and sheathed his blades. Digging through his collection of flasks briefly, he found a bottle of Nogg’s Special Elixer and downed it. Testing for the desired effect, he found that after a quick jump he fell slower than usual. “Sin!” he shouted behind him into the battle. “C’mere!” Sinviss pushed the remains of a naga off of the end of her pike with her foot and went to the bow.
“Yessir Cap’n?”
“Throw me. Quick.”
“Hehehehehehehehe. Alright!” She holstered her weapon and attempted to lift the captain, testing his weight. “No good, you won’t make it.”
Blacktusk spit on the deck before turning around and shouting again. “Scath! C’mere!”
The Forsaken backed away from the warrior she was fighting and let two of the deck hands occupy its attention. She then turned to approach the captain.
“Yeah?”
“Sin’s gotta throw me.”
Scathach paused and blinked before replying. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” The set of his jaw and grimace in his face lent weight to his words.
With a sigh, Scathach began casting. Blacktusk used the moment to yell at Grook that the younger orc was now in charge of the ship. After a few tense seconds she found she had successfully turned her captain into a sheep. Sinviss lifted him up easily and laughed as she took a few steps back, got a running start, and tossed the captain over to the Harbinger. The warrior whooped and cheered as she saw him crash into a few Bloodsails on the Blackwater’s ship. She turned to cheer with Scathach and Catelyn only to find herself alone. Sinviss shrugged slightly to herself, drew her pike and rejoined the fray.
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The eyes of an herbivore are set wide and gave an unfamiliar view to Blacktusk as he hurtled through the air into the melee beyond. The sensation reminded him of a particularly rough bender from a few years previously, only with more wool. Scathach and Sinviss’s timing was near perfect, with the sheep transmutating back to an orc after only one roll along the slick deck of the defending ship. Within two breaths he was on his feat, blades drawn, beating back a naga from a weary and shocked crewman. As soon as the snake beast went limp, he turned and ran to the bridge deck where he’d last spotted Ironpatch. The melee on the Harbinger was pure chaos up close, with Bloodsails, Blackwaters and naga swinging wildly, barely slowing if they saw their attacks aimed at one of their fellows. Blacktusk heard a goblin voice, First Mate Nilzlix, attempting to call out orders and create a cohesive defense out of the Harbinger’s crew, but from the orc’s point of view it wasn’t about to happen any time soon. He reached the ship’s wheel, still gripped by a greviously wounded ogre, Lolo, and spat as he saw no sign of Ironpatch. He scanned the area for any sign of the other orc, when a clang to his left shocked him back to his immediate surroundings.
“Gotta be more careful, Gul’tek” Catelyn said as she followed through on her riposte of the naga’s axe. The beast hissed and lunged as she brought up the dagger in her other hand, catching it beneath the chin and killing it.
“Cate? You followed me? How?”
“You don’t grow up the daughter of an Archmage of Dalaran without learning a few tricks. And for the record, I’m not the only one.” She gestured with her sword to the fight below where Scathach was holding back a pair of Bloodsail warlocks with a series of magical bolts and counterspells. Blacktusk grinned with pride.
“Y’seen that traitor bastard yet?”
Catelyn replied with another gesture, focusing their attention on a small mob of Blackwater sailors who were being tossed on their backs, clearing the view as they fell away. The two pirates above could clearly see Ironpatch in the midst of the fight. Blacktusk roared in fury and charged. Catelyn had to run to keep up, but stopped to deflect another incoming axe-head from the captain. Tusk leaped off of the bridge and collided squarely with Ironpatch, cushioning his landing. The Bloodsail orc stood quickly and stared at the captain, surprised to see his old enemy out here. The two squared off as they had many times in the past, adjusting stances ever so slightly before they were willing to charge. It was Ironpatch who made the first move.
“Get him!” he yelled to a few nearby swordsmen and warlocks. Those not engaged with either naga or Blackwaters turned and advanced at the order while Ironpatch ran back to the forecastle.
Sinviss was a dervish of death to the naga back on the King Llane’s Revenge. Nephrite kept a post by the mast where he kept up a steady stream of countermagic to the spells of the few sea witches. Grook and Boogalah were working with the rest of the crew and trying to keep a defensive position on the main deck.
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Neprhrite shouted above the din of battle, “We gotta do sometin! Dey keep comin!”
Grook’s reply was lost as the ship lurched and a thunder-like crack was heard from the starboard side. A shout from below drew everybody’s attention, but the naga kept attacking the main group.
“On it, bossmon.” With a flash, Nephrite was in the cargo area.
“Ooooh me too!” added Sinviss as she rushed off.
Grook tried to rally the nervous crew. “Stick to it! We’re still working up here. Whether they come from above or below, they’re dead!”
Nephrite saw the breach in the hull first. The naga warriors were pouring through the hole in the side of the ship as the witches behind them held the wall of water down to a trickle. Before he could decide what to do though, Sinviss charged past him. The snake beast in the lead was cut clean in two by the slash of her spearhead. The rest of the invaders growled and charged as Sinviss met them all with a smile on her face. Nephrite pondered the situation, considering how to save the ship from sinking while stopping the naga at the same time. He reached out with his sense of magic to trace the focus of the sea witch’s spell, easily finding that a single naga sorceress was acting as the focus.
“Dey may be strong, but dey not faced da voodoo before” he muttered to himself as the plan formed in his mind. “Deadone, take out da witch in da middle of de five othas quicklike!”
Sinviss replied with a nod and braced herself for a charge. The ship rocked again as a new breach opened up on the far side of the hold, with another score of naga warriors already forcing their way through. Nephrite muttered a quick word of power to chill the warriors around Sinviss to the floor, giving her a clear path to the first hole. She charged with impossible speed and dove headfirst into the wall of water where the ship met the ocean. The naga witches on the other side were shocked to inaction by a boldness they had never seen from a land-dweller before. Sinviss used her momentum and the element of surprise to stab the lead sorceress square in the chest without any interference. The sorceress’s last breath emerged as a small bubble and the walls of water came crashing in on Nephrite from both sides. His eyes opened behind his mask, glowing an icy white as he forced every drop of water for twenty meters around to instantly freeze. The naga forcing their way towards the witch doctor were first bowled over by the force of the wave, then flash frozen, trapped in massive blocks of ice. Nephrite blinked away the magic and surveyed his handiwork. The ship wasn’t about to sink anytime soon, and the naga down here were stopped. Now if only Sinviss could make it out unharmed it would be a perfect plan.
Meanwhile, Back At the Gulch:
Mystiq: stupid fat tauren
Flayer: Where’d you guys go?
Boven: [Troll] Eya chezu juman
Flayer: Wow, it’s never done that before!
Mystiq: stupid gnomish shrink ray. Stupid fat tauren
Flayer: Must’ve used too many flasks of mojo when i primed it or something
Boven: [Troll] Razu gala aya voodoo
Flayer: Wait, Muajin was around here somewhere. I’m going to get him to translate.
Muajin: [Frog] Ribbit.
Flayer: Wow! It’s never had that good range before, either! That was some powerful mojo!
The Harbinger, The Great Sea, South of Ambermill
Scathach, Catelyn and Blacktusk stood in a tight group, swords flashing, keeping the Bloodsails attacks at bay. Scathach and Catelyn threw out quick counterspells now and then to hold back the warlock’s assault. The rain pelted down all around them as they desperately tried to keep their ground while outnumbered. The bare bones crew of the Harbinger was scattered around the ship, fighting with other Bloodsails or naga or both. Blacktusk scanned around whenever he had a free moment to try and track Ironpatch, but the other orc was already out of sight.
Catelyn whipped around her cutlass to disarm an enemy pirate, allowing Blacktusk to stab him with his rapier. “Gul’tek honey, you gotta think of something!” She interrupted herself for a quick parry to the right. “We can’t keep this up!” Blacktusk only grunted in reply and refocused on the fight at hand. A quick wind whipped around the combat as behind them, Scathach focused upon evoking her magical ability, staring upwards as the flow of mana renewed her spirits. As the flow faded she continued to look upwards, entranced as the storm clouds above dissipated in a matter of seconds. All around the ship eyes glanced upwards as the rain stopped and the starlight streamed down on the three ships. The naga warriors and witches glanced up with all the rest, but couldn’t return their attention to the fight. A half a dozen fell to the swords of the various human pirates before the rest snapped back and began to flee. There wasn’t even a moment of confusion before the Harbinger’s crew let out an Arr of victory and redoubled their efforts against the Bloodsails.
“Nicely done, cap’n.” Scathach said as she returned to the melee. “I’ll be nice and not ask how you did it” she added with a wink. The Blackwaters came up behind them with a rush and engaged the remaining swashbucklers. Suddenly freed from the press of bodies, Blacktusk took off towards the bow at a full run, hoping to find Ironpatch.
The captain reached the stairs to the forecastle but gave a quick check through the door to the cabin underneath. Inside he saw Shakes O’Breen, a human and the captain of the Harbinger. Shakes was sitting at a small table, alternating between cleaning the remains of a naga off of his blade and cleaning out a large gash on his leg with rum. This would normally qualify for some comment from Blacktusk, but tonight he simply ran up the stairs and took up his fighting stance as he faced off against Ironpatch.
Ironpatch grinned. “Gul’tek, you still care. Chasing me all this way.”
“You know me, Morg, Never can let go of the past.”
Ironpatch charged with a roar. The two orcs appeared evenly matched to all who noticed their fight. Ironpatch had a heavier swing and wielded a shield, but Blacktusk was quicker and managed to deflect his opponent’s blade with his main gauche nearly as well as he could have with a shield. The blades flew around like bolts of lightning, clanging and sparking as they met. Few strokes could follow through, and those that did left only scratches. Blacktusk briefly claimed an advantage when Ironpatch took a bad step, and the heavier orc was soon pushed to where his back was against the fore mast. As the captain lined up a stab with his rapier, fully intending to end this fight, Ironpatch dropped to his knees and shoved his shoulder into Blacktusk’s midsection. With a grunt and a mighty heave, Blacktusk was thrown behind him. The captain flailed out for any grip he could get and managed to catch part of the rigging over the main deck. The momentum of the throw had him spin completely around and he soon found himself over top of the rope between the masts. He said a quick prayer, lowered his body, and desperately tried to balance on the slick rope. Ironpatch watched this show fully expecting the captain to fall, his smirk changing quickly to a scowl as Blacktusk stood and smiled. He banged his shield against the mast and roared in rage before resuming his assault. Blacktusk moved back up the rope slightly and was shocked to see his old enemy manage to find footing and close within melee range. He gripped his new wound after a quick slash from Ironpatch cut his prized shirt as well as his upper arm. This brought his attention and his rapier to bear. Both duelists parried and slashed while attempting to force the other to have to focus more on their balance than their blade.
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Seconds felt like minutes as the weight of the swords and tension in their legs worked their muscles to exhaustion. It was during one of the many brief pauses in the fight that Blacktusk suddenly felt worried for the first time since arriving. The two orcs were both in defensive postures, considering their next actions, when Ironpatch smiled. Blacktusk was used to seeing him smirk or grin or gloat, but a true smile was a frightening thing. The captain only had a moment to consider what could cause this change in emotions before he was hit with a spell from one of the warlocks below and he found himself wracked with pain from fingertip to toe. His body seized up and he watched, almost as an outside observer, as he tilted over to the right. He could see and feel his legs go taut as his feet finally slipped from the precarious position he’d so carefully held. Almost resigning himself to defeat, he looked up again and saw Ironpatch standing over him. He saw the smug look in his opponent’s face, a face he’d wanted to carve up so many times in the past. Memory of their previous encounters fueled the rage he’d had to bury to remain focused on his balance, and he reached out with his right hand desperately grasping for the rope. His hand went up as his eye went down, watching his rapier fall to the deck below, taking its time in its descent. A jerk from his arm pulled his eye back up as his hand found the rope. The rage in Blacktusk’s heart was sated. The rope shook and jostled from the impact and Ironpatch’s face was one of pure fear as the heavier orc knew that he was about to drop. Ironpatch grasped out at Blacktusk as he fell, but his hand only found a piece of the captain’s sleeve, which tore away easily. Blacktusk kept his eye on his hand, willing it to keep its grip. A soft metallic thud from below gave him the confidence to look down again.
Below the dangling captain, Ironpatch was sprawled out on the deck. He groaned and rolled over to lie on his back, his shield still strapped to his arm and covering his chest like a blanket. His sword was nowhere to be seen, scattered and lost beneath the feet of the fighters still concentrating on their own lives elsewhere on the Harbinger’s deck. Blacktusk eyed Ironpatch and heard the wheezing breath coming from below. “Not again,” he said to himself. “We’re not goin through this again.” He took a deep breath and drew his leg up so that he could draw his enchanted azsharite dagger from its sheath in his boot. Confidant he had a good grip on the dagger in his left hand, he let go of the rope. Blade and knee leading the way, he had no trouble making his landing, or finding his mark. Ironpatch released his last breath and lay limp on the deck, the pommel of Blacktusk’s dagger sticking out from his shield and the chest beneath it. The captain fell prone, exhausted, and hoped that everybody else was having as good a day as he was.
Sinviss dashed over the boarding plank between the King Llane’s Revenge and the Harbinger into the remains of the fight. A half a dozen other sailors followed after her before Grook pulled the ship away to a more maneuverable distance. Nephrite appeared beside Sinviss before she ran off again towards the aft, to where most of the remaining Bloodsails had retreated. Many of the Bloodsails had already fled back to the Damsel’s Luck, still moored bow to aft behind the Harbinger, but a few holdouts were still fighting. Catelyn and Scathach walked back towards the combat, each supporting the weary captain by a shoulder. He forced himself to stand up as he greeted the new arrivals.
“Neph, Sin, good t’see ye again.”
“You no lookin so good bossmon.”
“Yeah, I know, but it coulda been a lot worse, mate.”
“Speakin ah which... ahhhh... ah got some bad news bout da Llane, mon.”
Blacktusk looked over to his ship and saw for the first time the large block of ice that was now a necessary part of the hull’s structure. He stood there speechless for a moment before finally muttering, “damn...”
From the other ship he could see Grook and Boogalah waving as they stood among a pile of naga bodies. They stood slightly awkwardly and Boog was holding her left arm at an odd angle, but Blacktusk knew from the pile at their feet that they’d had a good night too.
“Hey! Cap’n!” Sinviss called from the other direction. They all turned to see her standing over Ironpatch’s body. “Want me to take out the trash?”
“Yeah Sin. Think I’d be happy t’not see that again...”
Sinviss started crouching down before she caught a glare from Scathach. She decided that perhaps the mage was right and that it would not be polite to dispose of the corpse in that fashion. Sinviss hefted the body onto her shoulder and tossed it over the starbord rail. The collected Pirates of Kalimdor glanced at the orc’s body as it sank slowly into the lapping waves below.
They returned to the aft to see that all the Bloodsails still alive were now cowed and on board their own ship. They had pulled back the boarding planks from their bow and the two ships were now drifting slowly apart as the attackers made ready to set sail. Blacktusk yelled out for his crew to hold as he saw some of them preparing to send their own planks over.
“That’s enough! We’re pretty beat up, but they’re downright crippled. Toss any bullets or pot-shots ye want at em, but nobody goes over! I ain’t losin any more of ye on this trip.” They obeyed and stopped preparations for more melee, but all eagerly got out their bows and guns and started lobbing shots at the warlocks and their allies.
Blacktusk looked around and saw Captain Steelgut limping his way up from the hold. He started walking slowly towards the dwarf, passing the magically fatigued wizards and the witch doctor as they all sat drinking. He was halfway towards the Maiden’s Folly’s captain when a sound came in on the breeze that froze his blood to ice. “By Doomhammer’s beard.” He turned his head and heard it well. He thought for a moment that this might be another of the nightmares he’d had frequently over the past five years, but the smells and pains of the night’s work assured him that this time, it was real. He turned to stare at the Damsel’s Luck and saw on her aft where a single warlock was charged and lit with an unnatural purple light. His head shot up and his eye scanned the clouds and sky for the hint of the Infernal he knew was up there. He’d seen the destruction those demons caused numerous times during the war against the Burning Legion and had always counted himself lucky and cursed to have never been in one of their paths. Lucky for surviving, cursed for having to watch the devastation with very little he could do about it. He scanned the sky but saw nothing except the moon and the stars. He started twitching, looking farther around, but his view was bordered in by the Harbinger’s masts and sails. “Wind,” he muttered. “Wind!” Twisting around he stared at his friends and just kept repeating as he pointed to the sky and sails. “Wind! Now! Wind!”
Scathach was the first to understand. She quickly got to her feet and began channeling all of her meager energy reserves into creating an arcane wind. Nephrite joined her next, his effort adding an icy chill to the growing force. Catelyn added her power last, bringing it to a full gale. The unnatural wind caught the sails and the Harbinger started moving forwards, sluggishly at first. Glancing behind them, Blacktusk saw that a few of the warlocks on the Damsel’s Luck saw what they were up to. With unheard orders, he could see a number of magic devouring felbeasts start to run towards that ship’s bow and leap towards the Harbinger. He never got to see whether they had sufficient force to span the gap as they were each brought down by a volley of fire from Sinviss and the rest of the crew. By this point a new sound could barely be heard above the sustained wind; a low whistling came from above. Blacktusk refused to look up, wanting to see the face of the summoning warlock as his plan failed so spectacularly. It wasn’t until just before impact that the captain realized the Damsel’s Luck had her sails up too, and had been moving along with them. He saw the Infernal very briefly before the flash of its impact with the deck of the Bloodsail ship blinded him temporarily. He ran to the aft rail and searched the roiling waters behind them as his vision cleared. Among the remains and debris from the other vessel, a dim green light could be seen sinking fast to the bottom of the ocean. Steelgut limped up beside him and stared out over the rail as well.
“Damn, laddie! Ye had that l’il trick planned out, did ye?”
“Just tryin’ t’find a use fer some ole nightmares, mate.”
Steelgut just nodded, either impressed or exhausted.
“So d’ye know a decent place we could put up kip for a few days while we patch up my ice cube of a ship?”
“Huh? Oh, aye. Faldir’s Cove, ‘bout ‘alf a day east. That’s where we’ve been hidin out waitin f’r repairs or reinforcements. Looks like we decided t’risk it home a wee bit too soon, eh?”
Epilogue
A handful of bubbles rose and popped on the Great Sea among the wreckage of the Damsel’s Luck. Mere moments later, a bruised and battered orc broke the surface and gasped for breath. His right eye was covered by a small metal plate and his left arm was limp and broken. His right hand gripped the pommel of a slightly green dagger made of some exotic material, which he plunged into a piece of wood floating by for a grip. He lay there for a few moments until he was satisfied that he was strong enough not to drown should he relax slightly. As he adjusted his hold on the dagger small pieces of a shattered purple jewel fell from his hand. It was obvious by the way that he had been so recently holding it that this jewel was both precious and recently broken. Ironpatch floated around for a few minutes and collected the survivors of the battle into a coherent group. “We’re not done. We’re making landfall. We’re going back home as soon as possible.” The warlocks and sailors around him nodded weakly. “Closest shore is north, so which way is north?” A nearby felbeast, one of the few demons to survive, waved its tentacles around briefly before indicating a very specific direction. The warlock nearby said, “That way.” He paused and breathed heavily for a few seconds before continuing. “Dalaran, it’s north of here. Shore’s that way.” Satisfied, Ironpatch tucked the green dagger into his belt and began swimming off in that direction.
end
And how did i feel after finally getting that story out of my head, after two weeks of it?
http://tinypic.com/view/?pic=6zr8sg