RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

If they weren't so sick, Juniper may have laughed. They remembered talking like that a bit, back when they'd first learned their own magic. They had practiced, though, quite a bit. It drove their parents mad, and they constantly worried, but they'd always tell them they were getting better, that they were figuring out how to control it.

They offered a small smile, hiding the bit of sadness that crept in. "No, I don't think so." A small bite of potato, a sip of the water. They still felt awful, but this was better than nothing, that was for certain. "Just- curious. That's all."

The sorceress let the remark hang in the air for a moment, as they thought. They'd never gotten to ask Hester what they wanted, and now certainly wasn't the time. Pris probably wouldn't know, but maybe she could ask, or maybe she did know, inexplicably.

Their headache reminded Juniper that thinking was too hard right now, that it was easier to just talk and see what happened. And so, they talked. "I just have someone... a few people, I guess, that I... wanted to talk to, one more time. They're, uh... gone, right now. I wanted to know if that was something your magic could do. Mine... can't, so I didn't know if it was possible."
 
"Oh. Well..." A thoughtful sort of pause, and Pris took a seat on the bench, tapping her fingers idly on the table, the skeletal hand echoing the same gesture on the girl's shoulder. "I probably can't. Not yet, I mean. Maybe I could try. I know Mr. King can. And Mr. Khai, but he's creepy. And... well... the people who get brought back, they don't really seem to enjoy it very much. So I guess you'd have to decide if that's something you really want to do."

She shrugged, which probably should have dislodged the hand on her shoulder, but either it had excellent balance and reflexes or it was just used to this sort of thing. It gripped her a little tighter, though, or maybe just gave her a little squeeze. It was hard to tell, really.

"I guess you just have to decide if what you're doing for you is worth what you're doing to them. And I don't know the answer to that. But then again, I'm not really a very good necromancer. I'm better with potatoes. But I don't think you can have undead potatoes. I haven't tried, though."
 
"Are you sure?"

The question came much faster than Juniper had intended, as if it had been shot out of a canon. They heard, somewhere up above, Caleb call for everyone to get moving, that they were going to go find Emer. They knew they weren't included in that, as much as they would love to question Aamir face to face, and see what was really going on. Instead, they refocused (as much as they could) on the conversation at hand.

"Sorry, just... was hoping for a better answer." They hoped that maybe there was some knowledge Pris was missing, and that maybe it wouldn't be a torturous experience. Surely they'd want to come back, right? Given how things had ended?
 
Ciaran had spent the better part of the last hour handing out arms to the crew, he had Torrel keep notes of every rifle or blade issued, it was important to keep track of this sort of thing - even pirates needed some modicum of organization.

By the time the captain's call rang through the decks, he already had a dozen raiders ready. Ciaran hadn't told them the details yet, he'd need to confer with the executives about how this engagement would commence. They weren't professionals, but they could assemble a firing line and follow some of the training he'd given them.

Ciaran emerged on decks with his troops in tow, not quite marching but at least their barrels were skyward and blades were sheathed. "No fooling about, I want dry powder and clean barrels when I return. At ease." The Master-Gunner crossed the deck to join Captain O'Cain and Alys, catching Alys' last comment. "No doubt they're expecting us, they know how we care for Emer - they're expecting us to be brash and foolish."

"Choosing Emer was no accident, I believe their motive is deeper than gaining a healer by taking ours." Ciaran's mechanical hand rested on the railing, for a moment he hesitated. "Alys, this shapeshifter - Sky - do you know what he wants?"
 
The blind woman… Being underestimated was likely how she’d managed to kidnap Emer under the baron’s snout. To know they planned on heading east meant that if they had already left Leimor, at least the Nox would know in which direction to go.

“It has to be a coincidence.” Caleb said, not wanting to think of the possibility Naveen could’ve been with the Cloud Cutter. Ciaran and a dozen of his men joined them, armed to the teeth. The captain smirked. “If they know we’re coming, there’s no need to be discreet.”

If the guards of Leimor caught up to them there’d certainly be an issue, giving them even more reason to move quickly. Some of the men laid down stairs and ropes, Caleb didn’t need any of it to land on the wooden docks. With hurried steps he led the pack, until catching up to two familiar figures heading the same direction.

“No sign of them yet, baron?” Caleb asked, being somehow surprised by his company. Nessa hadn’t been feeling well lately, he hadn’t expected to see her out and about.
 
With some manner of effort, Winter had gotten her things all sorted. In one hand she held a saucer with a fresh and still steaming cup of tea (which was an assumption on her part, it felt hot enough to steam) with a pair of sugar cubes rattling in the saucer just in case Emer liked her tea with a drop or two of sugar. Her cane was tucked under her arm, pinned in place with a squeeze as she held a bottle of rum cradled against her forearm. It was not fine rum, because Winter doubted very much that Sky was looking to taste it with his yelling. Still, she wasn’t the one who was getting a bullet pulled from her leg, so she was in no position to judge him.

She reentered the clinic, head half cocked as she listened to the goings on, which were going about as well as expected following a kidnapping, but Aamir had always been good at making things go well when they shouldn’t be any right. The bottle of rum went to the counter with a heavy thump and her cane slid back into her hand with an almost liquid smoothness. She had heard the wisewoman say alcohol would be fine, but he wasn’t the one she had kidnapped, so her attention turned instead to Emer.

“Where would you like your tea?” Winter asked, leaving out the ‘dear’ as that seemed like pushing things now that the jig was up.
 
With a sigh, Alys watched as Caleb fluttered over the edge of the ship, disappearing into the darkness. He wasn't wrong; she didn't think being discreet was necessary, but caution wasn't a detriment. Why was he so sure it was a coincidence, when he was so quick to calculate and deem Leo's phrasing as suspect?

Tightening her jaw, Alys turned to Ciaran. "I think Sky is deliberately being a pain in my ass. And I don't think he'd go after Emer, unless he was ordered to." There was one reason why he'd seek out a woman, and she certainly wasn't the type. "They could've taken anyone though, but they have the person that the crew cares the most about. I think we need to be careful."

After the crew climbed down onto the street, she rejoined the officer. "How do you think we should approach this?" Her question was quiet, as to not allow anyone else to hear it. She felt conflicted; stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying to reign Caleb in, making sure they didn't march straight into a trap, while also being efficient and bloody ruthless for taking Emer.
 
"Right here, dear," Emer replied, taking the cup out of Winter's hands and setting it - for the moment - to the side. She finished dabbing at the stitched wound, then began to tie some of the unused rags around it in a makeshift bandage.

"Now. You told her to bring me here. You wished to speak with me." She tied the wrappings on the outside, picked up the tea, and took a delicate sip. It was weaker than she was used to, but tea was tea. "I think a better option would have been to approach me and ask for my help."

Another sip.

"The answer would have been a tentative yes, by the by. It would have been that simple. But instead, you acted a fool in the most roundabout way possible. Did you -- hope to coerce me? Force my hand, by my predicament? Or strike me unconscious, then plead on the details later? I certainly hope the former, for if you thought - or, I suppose, by lack of thought - I would help after you treated me so, well."

Another sip, longer this time. Assenting, she picked up the honey and added a few drops.

"Aos Gaotha's magic is our stories. Little more, little less. If you are hoping for me to curse this girl with ill luck, or plague her fields, or give her illness, I cannot help you, and I would not even if I could. But - I am a wisewoman. I know a good bit about saving lives."
 
"Agreed - if you see two of me just remember to stab the less handsome one, yeah?" Ciaran hoped his jest would relieve some of the tension he saw building in his friend. Alys hadn't told him the relation she had with Sky and he wasn't keen on assuming - but it wasn't hard to guess. A story for another night and another bottle.

With the captain's blessing, Ciaran slung his rifle and rode the rope down to the wooden docks. There, joined by his troop he fell in step behind his captain in a silent march - at least until Alys found a place beside him. "Fast, precise, and with as few of Caleb's theatrics as we can manage." Ciaran signaled with two fingers at the group behind him, ushering two pairs to split off and watch their flanks.

"He is right, they are expecting us, but knowing it's a trap doesn't make it any less of one," he looked at Alys with tired eyes - he wasn't ready to see more of them die.

"We've no idea what their numbers or capabilities are, can't even tally up what advantages we have over them till we see them in a fight. Sky already slipped through Caleb's fingers once - I expect he'll do it again and deny him the satisfaction of the fight."

"You're asking how I'd approach this? Truth is, I wouldn't. This marching to their front door shit is gonna get us spotted if we aren't already." He'd already been scanning for potential lookouts, but with how obvious they were it wouldn't make much of a difference. "I'd scout their location first with someone local, then position snipers in 'L' formation as to avoid crossfire." Ciaran pointed out the nearest rooftops along the docks on either side. "Get someone quiet and deadly inside then bait 'em out with someone reckless and stupid. Then, I'd bring them into a killzone where we can surround them with lead and blades."

"'Course, what do I know? I'm not the one they call captain, am I?"
 
Sky paid little to no attention to the things being said over him, bringing the bottle of rum to his lips just in time for the needle to pierce through his leg for the first time. Some of the liquid was spit out but there wasn’t a scream, he wouldn’t give the aos gaotha the satisfaction. He got used to the pain and by the time the stitching was done, so was a quarter of the bottle.
 
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The search had gone about as well as he had expected. One Al'ashtavahk did not a search party make; truthfully, it felt more like floundering. Each passing moment was another beat of anger that welled within, another missed opportunity, another moment where he did not know she was safe. There was an immature and brash part of him that wished to lash out, but he quieted the mind and steeled the heart. Emryk knew better than to get angry; there was a time and place for rage, and now was hardly the place for either.

Wrath still took him in its embrace, though. Eager and forlorn, he was almost all-too ready to indulge that feral hatred that lurked deep within; the same vitriol he'd held many years ago, when he was alone and angry. Angry at the world, angry at fate. Truthfully, he couldn't bear to think about the possibility of her being dead-- though it was something he would inevitably need to face. At the very least, Juniper was alive and well. And Emer... there was time. There would still be time.

"Mmh?"

Nessa's voice provoked a grunt from the Baron, who was evidently so lost in thought that he took a smidge too long to craft a timely reply; instead, he seemed distant as he gazed out along the harbor, body hunched slightly as he leaned his elbows on a pile of empty crates. About the size of a regular man, but a decent armrest for a fellow of his stature. "I hate to be the one to bear this news to you, but there's been a kidnapping. Emer's missing. And Naveen..."

The knurled size of his snout twinged, a moment, showing the barest hint of a fang-laden grimace. "... is gone. According to Leo, he had... escaped. And the boy..."

A pinch to the bridge of his snout. He shook his head.

"... it appears you have new kin, Nessa. Leo is a vampire, put bluntly. Turned by Naveen, allegedly... and the ice giant's dead. Ronan, I believe." A sigh. "In short, a lot has happened. I'm quite tired, so forgive my curtness." He left the crates and resumed his patrol along the harbor, rubbing at the side of his head and pausing once the voice of the Captain called out to them both; Emryk glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "No." Was all he said, for the moment. A beat of silence passed between the pair of them. The quiet pleasance of the Baron had all but suffocated, replaced by an unmoving sheet of dolor. He did not anguish, but he hardly seemed cheery. For good reason.

"And you? Any sign of her?"

 
“If Sky is well enough to fight back, he’ll find himself with a hole in his second leg,” Alys muttered, eyes flicking over the passing rooftops, scanning for movement. That, or worse.

Ciaran’s plan made logical sense, and it eased some of the worry she felt as they marched back towards the manor. Yet, it placed her in an uncomfortable position - she didn’t know if Ciaran and Caleb were on good terms, or at least, better terms. Suggesting that Caleb listen to Ciaran, despite being the most qualified, seemed like a long-shot. He undeniably had an ego, and having just obtained his new, desirable role, well, it could just piss him off. Regardless, she had some say in the matter, and it was a risk she was willing to take, especially if it lessened the hit they could potentially take.

“No, you’re not. But this is your area of expertise. Come on then,” she said, nodding towards Caleb and Emryk’s looming figure, her own pace quickening to join the two.

“Captain,” she said quietly once she walked alongside him. “Even though they know we’re coming, we don’t know nearly enough to walk right up and knock down their door. We don’t need a repeat of what happened on the Teller.” Her left hand found itself encircling her right wrist, massaging the scarred skin that the bone construct had left behind. It served as a reminder of the monstrosities that lurked beyond closed doors.
 
“Not yet.” Caleb answered, holding to the strap of his rifle that hung over his shoulder.

Clouds covered the moon, darkening the pier. Silence lingered between the group for a while longer before Alys and Ciaran caught up to them, bringing Caleb to a stop. He listened to the fairy’s words, a courtesy he wouldn’t offer to just anyone.

“And what do you have in mind, quartermaster?” He asked in a similarly quiet tone.
 
"I'm pretty sure about the potatoes?" Pris offered, before realizing that Juniper probably meant about the brought-back souls. That was a lot harder of a question, and since she wasn't even completely sure about the potatoes, she didn't really have a good answer to it. "Um. I guess... from what I've seen, no, they're not really happy about it? But I don't know. That could be more to do with the situation than anything else." If you were brought back to be part of an undead army or something like Emma, well, Pris wouldn't have been too happy about that either alive or dead, so maybe it was a matter of personal choice.

"It's hard to say. Why do you want to bring someone back, anyway?" There had to be a reason for it, right? People didn't just one day say they were going to bring a bunch of people back from death as horrible monstrosities - or, well, maybe they did? Maybe some people did. She didn't, but different people did different things, after all.

Still, Juniper sounded like she had some sort of reason for all of this, even some sort of really specific reason. Pris thought about this, her fingers lacing for a moment with those of the skeletal hand on her shoulder. "Who is it, anyway?"
 
"In my experience, no one ever comes quietly." Most of the time, it was with good reason. Certainly, any time Aamir had been instructed to come quietly, that was the last thing that he wanted to do in the situation. Then again, the woman was a strange one. It was hard to say, with her.

"Also, I doubt you'd have been so agreeable once you found out why." They rarely were, after all. It would take a fool to opt in to that situation.

Then again, here she was, stitching up Sky and drinking tea, so perhaps she was as foolish as he needed her to be. And if not, well, Winter could always hit her on the head again, although that might make it hard to get the stories out.

"I want to steal a girl from Solomon King and break his curse."

And now he sat back, to find out if this wisewoman was anywhere near as foolish as he was.
 
“What?” Nessa said, her voice was sharp with alarm, if not a little lost as to which of the disasters she should be reacting to. Leo was a vampire and Naveen was gone? Had Naveen attacked him as he left then? That had to be what happened but— Ronan was dead and Emer was— Emer was— had Naveen…?

Nessa rounded on Caleb as he approached, a flash of teeth as she cast her gaze over the collection of armed crew following behind him. “What the hell's going—” Nessa fell silent with a sharp click of her tongue. She felt breathless, which was strange because she didn’t actually need to breathe, and she felt annoyed which Nessa thought was a perfectly reasonable thing to feel.

“Where are we heading? Nessa asked, her voice with more steel than she felt.

—~~—~~—~~—

“Mind that you don’t knock your teeth out with the bottle.” Winter said, gently, as Sky made what sounded like a third of the bottle vanish. The swordswoman kept her distance as the wisewoman did her work, her hands resting on the top of her cane. Out of the way, until she needed to be in the way or, maybe asked to hold a pair of scissors. Whichever was needed first really. She did tilt her head in Emer’s direction though when Aamir finally made his request, a touch of curiosity turning the corners of her lips.
 
"Haven't you heard? Our wisewoman's been kidnapped," Alys replied sharply, mimicking the tone Nessa had initiated. Turning back to Caleb, she exhaled deeply. "Emotions are high - and I know we want to act quickly -," she continued, gaze briefly flicking to Emryk. "We send a couple scouts ahead. Ciaran's suggesting we get someone on the inside and draw them out, surround them." Typically, Nessa would've been a good choice, but the girl quite literally looked like death now - when had she last fed? And where the fuck was Lucien?

Too many variables played on her mind, so she shut her mouth and allowed the small group to think, to mull over the proposition and build on it.

They needed to make the right decision here, Caleb especially. To show the outside world that even though the Whore was dead, the Nox lived on. They needed to be swift and brutal. She wondered how many men would Aamir sacrifice until he released Emer, safe and sound. If they managed to surround them, and began to execute one man per minute, surely this level-headed captain who never sustained casualties would yield.
 
“We're not familiar with the ship and have no idea of how many people are on it.” Caleb answered after a moment of consideration, crossing his arms over his chest. Alys was the one who brought it up, but of course the idea came from Ciaran. He looked the Fir Bolg in the eye, even if the words were directed at the fae. “The only person who could go in without getting immediatelly caught is Nessa, who looks like a walking corpse right now.” Surely the girl wouldn’t be offended by it. The idea was stupid, but Alys wasn’t wrong to think they needed to come up with a plan.

“Do you think you could still convince them you want to leave with them to the east or was the gunshot too strong of a message?” Caleb asked, brainstorming other ideas in the meantime.
 


"Perhaps this is naive of me to say, as I'm not well-versed in the matters of piracy or those that practice it," Emryk began, his gaze shifting to the Captain and quartermaster as he walked. "But if they kidnapped Emer, it may very well be for a specific reason. A blind woman on a ship seems atypical, and they didn't appear to be your average gaggle of... ruffians." His gaze flickered over the three high-ranking pirates, as if to prove his point, and he crossed his arms as he looked back out along the bay.

"Tempted as I might be to walk a hole through their ship, perhaps it's best if we don't respond with direct violence or subterfuge; an outright confrontation that lacks any direct action is still a display of force that would convey intent well enough. Yes?" His gaze flickered back to the group. "As passionate as I am about getting her back, I doubt she'd enjoy the fact we carved the throats of ten men to force their hand. Perhaps a parlay might be a better course of action-- it wouldn't send them into a frenzy, for starters, and allow us to understand why they'd taken her to begin with. Perhaps you needn't know the specifics, but I personally am curious as to why they've taken such a damned interest in you all."

 
Alys scoffed, barely able to hold back the grin that threatened to appear on her face. "If I shot you and a couple hours later asked for a job, I'd hope you'd be hesitant." The gleam in her eye contradicted her words, as did the knowledge of what he'd actually done. She'd sliced him up, and here they were - she didn't even need to ask for this specific position.

That's not to say that there weren't options; most of which involved her bravest acting face and likely some ego-destroying performances. But the unknowns were far too great - Sky knew too much about her, about her past.

"A parlay would require honour to follow through. I don't know about you, but I could count the number of pirates with honour on one hand. And I'd rather not wager Emer's life on the slim possibility that this is one of few."

Alys understood the desire to understand why Aamir had taken Emer - and perhaps they'd be able to draw it out, along with their wise woman.

"What about a distraction to draw them out? A couple of us could slip inside to free Emer?"
 
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