RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

No ordinary missus would refer to the princess as ‘little Maeve’. Caleb knew he was accompanied by royalty, but this woman by his side… She wasn’t just royalty.

Her son, the sour faced prick, was the royal advisor. Her daughter, the one she believed to be missing, had been dead for years. Caleb remembered attending the funeral, even if he wasn’t allowed near the casket.

And to think… He contained a light chuckle, thinking of what Sinead’s response would have been had anyone accused her of ever being betrothed to the king. Caleb couldn’t imagine her ever wearing one of those frilly dresses.

“Won’t you be attending the wedding, Lady Realta?” Caleb asked, seeing his delusion turn into opportunity.
 
"Oh, of course. My daughter is going to be there. She wouldn't dare miss it. Appearances and all. She... wouldn't miss it." The lady sounded a bit like she was trying to convince herself, and paused at an intersection with a sigh.

"This way. At least my son made sure we had nice rooms. Not that he's ever in them, of course. Too busy for his mother, I suppose. Well. He's done well for himself. Better than I expected. Not as well as my Eilidh would have done, of course, but she's... oh, have you seen her? She's been absent."
 
Summer looked over Alys’ shoulder, at the empty cabin and the open window, large enough for a fully grown fairy to fly through.

“I guess he decided to go by himself.” She shrugged, not bringing up the possibility that he might’ve just chosen to end things his own way. Lucien would probably find it funny, but he’d be the only one.

“So… That solves things, doesn't it?

***

The answer was no. It seemed to be a consensus that had the captain chosen to kill those people by himself it would be a suicide mission and some, not all of the crew genuinely cared for his well being. That was why, a few minutes after the sun had set, Summer found herself silently walking through the woods in the back of the castle as a part of the small rescue team that had decided to stick to the original plan.

“We should go back!” Summer heard a male voice say, before hiding behind one of the trees. Beyond the voice, she could hear multiple steps over the fallen leaves, along with a girly laugh.

“Quit being a puss! The castle is packed, they won’t even notice we’re gone.” A second male voice said.

Summer peaked behind the tree and realized they were in luck. There were three men in uniform, two of them accompanied by girls in white dresses, with flowers adorning their hair. She guessed the one who requested to return was the one elf flying solo. Summer glanced at Alys, waiting for instructions on how to proceed.

***

Caleb didn’t know where they were, but it was safe to assume the royal advisor’s room would be near the rooms of other important people. While the woman spoke on and on about her daughter, Caleb found himself debating which room to go in first.

His contemplations stopped when they got to her room. He would accompany her to the door, say he’d go get her the orange paint and initiate his search, but something stopped him from leaving. The painting stopped him.

The amber wings were unfamiliar to him, but it was the only part of that person who was unfamiliar. Her eyes hadn’t been painted yet, but the lips, the nose, the hair… The pirate stood at the doorway, his jaw dropped and his heart tight, as if a hand had reached into his ribcage and squeezed it.

That was Sinead, undoubtedly. She was younger, more like she had been when they’d first met. She had no scars, less wrinkles or sun marks but… It was her.
 
Lucien peered into O’Cain’s room with disinterest, noting the distinct lack of a corpse or significant amounts of blood. Not that the absence was particularly surprising to him.He would have been able to smell if there was a copious amount of blood, and any ragged breath or pulse would have been audible. He had known the former quartermaster was not in his chambers before any of the assembled had. The vampire was about to turn on his heel and depart, before the newcomer’s question piqued his interest.

He had no desire to save the fairy from his apparent suicide mission. Lucien personally believed that the captain should have slit his throat while shaving and done them all a favor. No, he had ulterior motives for coming along on this fool’s errand.

Freedom.

Desperation was a powerful ailment, and the others knew how effective Lucien could be when it came to ending lives. He had no doubt that, should it come down to the matter, the captain’s whore would remove his restraint in exchange for him saving her beloved. So Lucien found himself crouched in the woods, his dark clothing obscuring his pale skin, footsteps making barely a whisper as he crept along the path.

A man’s voice rang out, almost next to him, and Lucien’s fangs glinted in the moonlight. His sparring sessions had not solely been the results of his frustration at his newfound bonds. It had been testing his leash, seeing what he could accomplish without stirring the angry spirit. It seemed that certain acts of violence could be excused. With a single fluid motion, Lucien stepped out from under the shadows. His hand snapped forward, his claws digging into the soft flesh of the mans’ cheeks as he covered his mouth.

Lucien quickly pulled the elf back into the dark, slamming the heel of his free palm into the base of the man’s skull with a dull crack. He shifted to adjust for the now dead-weight he was carrying before quietly, but not gently, letting the body slip to the ground.

One down. Four left.
 
"Why are we out here again?" It was half a whisper, half a hiss, from one of the girls to the other, either not meant to be heard by the guards they were at the arms of or pretending it.

"Oh, come on, you know why!"

"I think I heard a spider. I hate spiders."

"You hate everything, oh my gosh, I don't even know why he likes you. And how do you hear a spider, anyway?"

"I'm pretty. Too pretty to be out here with the spiders. Which you would totally be hearing if you were paying attention."

"Ugh."

"I just think maybe next time we should take a carriage, is all. A nice little carriage, with pretty horses and ribbons, and-"

"Hey, where's Kevin?" This last was spoken more loudly - and more observantly - than the rest of the conversation, and the group paused, looking around for their missing member.





The lady stepped into the room, setting the paintbrush down in a cup with several others like it, puttering for a moment with art supplies before seeming to realize that Caleb had stopped, and was still standing there. She looked at him, then at the object of his gaze, then seemed to accept this as more or less standard.

"I told you she's pretty. She's too good for you, though, boy. She's marrying the prince - at least, if I have any say in it. Now, where is that orange?"
 
He left. He left. He left.

The words repeated ruthlessly, over and over. A gentle breeze brushed against her face, cooling her skin as it began to burn. Initially, she denied it, ready to turn and lash out against Summer and Argent, the two that'd disappeared before they'd found him gone. But that crisp, sea-tinged air, affirmed the opposite, along with the rest of the room. Tears sprang forward but she closed her eyes tightly, denying their appearance, back turned to the rest of the crew as they began to speak.

The plan changed. She'd have to go now because she said she'd see this through, in one way or the other. And the ship would remain in Emryk's capable hands. Just until the morning.

Once the plan was set, she took her leave, and as her own door closed behind her, the tears began to fall.

He'd left. She'd done everything, been everything, and he'd still left. She didn't even deserve a warning. But what did she expect - she hadn't gotten one last time, when the first had gone, why would she expect anything different? She was a fucking fool.

Hands trembling, cheeks slick with tears and throat constricting, Alys quietly gasped for air as she changed. As she stuffed the rest of her belongings into a large pack; her clothes, the dress, the chunks of diamonds, the jewelery, everything that she could fit.

She bid the tears to stop as some point, fingertips touching an old copper ring attached to a simple chain. And once it hung around her neck, she inhaled deeply, over and over, until she was calm. One night in Goswick. She'd give one more night and then she'd be gone.

As she'd tied her hair back, jaw set, the reflection of her reddened eyes glazed over and remained that way, even now, as she stood within the forest. Alys gave Summer a slight nod, towards the three soldiers. Lucien sprang forward, eliminating the first, and as the rest of the group noticed his disappearance, the second man turning back to look, she was there. Viciously swining the blunt end of her sword at his temple.
 
Argent wasn’t convinced Captain O’Cain hadn’t simply abandoned his ship and his crew, despite the ideas that some might have harbored that the man had simply flown off to complete his mission alone. Perhaps it was a belief that Caleb might be more cowardly than stupid, though Argent wasn’t sure he could say with certainty.



He wasn’t accused of anything, at least, when the door burst open and more curls than blood were found with the Captain’s things. Naturally the First Mate took Caleb’s place in the mission, though Argent found himself wondering whether it was worth going through with in the first place. If Caleb had left the Nox for safer pastures it seemed irrelevant if his crew assassinated the nobility he had his eye on.



Regardless of his doubts the elf found himself crouching in the shadows, ready to pounce upon the brave forest adventurers who had wandered into the forest. He was as silent as a ghost, alert though his face was as passive as ever. Lucien’s shadowed form snatched one of the young men from the group, efficient enough in his way. The missing man did not go unnoticed long, and the hint of alarm in the woman’s voice served as a signal that sent Argent into motion, a half step behind Alys as she struck out to one of the the remaining men.



Argent’s extended hand did not lash out at the last guard, however. Instead it wrapped around one of the women’s face, perhaps the one who spoke of spiders, and covered her mouth as he stepped around her and pulled her in close with decisive speed. No sooner was she drawn in than his free hand flashed to her throat, small blade pressed against the soft flesh menacingly as his gaze met with the last of the guards.



”If you stay calm, and quiet,” his gaze broke away from the guard to bore into the other woman with his warning, ”things won’t have to get messy. Move, or scream, and you won’t make it home tonight.” Caleb might have requested that there be no unnecessary bloodshed, Alys might have agreed with it, but there was no reason for their targets to doubt Argent’s cold tone.
 
When she found Caleb, she was going to bite him. First starting a crisis, then getting himself bloodied before flying off somewhere, it was like he was just trying to piss her off at this point. Maybe that’s what this all was, some group effort to see how much they could all frustrate her in twelve hours. Still, her services had been requested so she was going to get the lot of them into the wedding even if she had to kill them to do it. Because she was a professional even if everyone on this ship seemed to be trying her patience.

Nessa slid neatly behind the third guard as the second fell from a solid KRAK to the back of his head. Nessa’s dagger slid free from its leather scabbard with an oil-slick smoothness. She caught the man’s sword hand with her right as she brought the blade up to the man’s neck. Not close enough to bite the skin, but enough to be uncomfortable.

“Not a sound.” She muttered into the man’s ear, which took a little bit of standing on her tiptoes to do, but she was behind him with a knife, so she wasn’t really concerned about looking silly.
 
With the three guards either captured or knocked down, and Argent in charge of one of the girls, Summer ran to catch the other one before she could escape.

“Don’t worry darling, we just want your clothes.” She said, lining her hands behind her back. “Do you need help or can you get it off by yourself?”

***

Too good for you.

Caleb felt a lump slide down his throat and an urge to let the uisce beatha he had drank earlier out. Unable to respond, he simply nodded and hurried out of the room to the nearest window in the hallway, where looked out of and breathed in the fresh air, until his sickness had passed.

He suspected Sinead wasn’t her real name. He knew she had many secrets but for this to be one of them…

What had happened to her?

Caleb trying to think of the times he had seen Lady Eilidh in his youth, but his memories of that time were too vague at this point. Had she recognized him? It was unlikely, considering he was just the son of the butler, but with that woman… There were so many questions he’d never get an answer to.

Her mother was too unreliable for him to try and get anything from her, but her brother…

Focus.

Caleb had a mission, and a ticking time bomb in his hand. Despite being overwhelmed with the new information, he began his search, looking through the rooms in order to find those that belonged to the people he had to kill.
 
The guards and the girls were undressed, and Summer walked away from the group so she could change into her new dress, being careful not to get dirt on it.

Looking back to make sure she was alone, she removed her prosthetic and tucked it into the hole of a tree, in hopes she’d be able to find it later. Her foot grew into a regular size before she tied the laces of her boots, giving her more confidence in her step. After looking over her shoulder one more time, she walked back to where they’d left the group of half naked people, tied together around a tree. She put her coat over one of the girls.

“Someone will find you in the morning. Probably.”
 
If there was any aspect of the situation that Argent held reservations about they didn’t show. Once the group had been stripped, bound and gagged he took one of the available uniforms silently, and began to change into it immediately. He made no effort to hide the evidence of his many mistakes, scars of varying sizes and shapes that were usually hidden by his clothes. He didn’t waste time on the process, though.



He was adjusting the collar of the uniform as Summer returned from her own wardrobe change. For a moment his eyes simply followed her, narrowed slightly as she spoke to the people they had robbed.



”No matter how this goes, I’m sure there will be someone this way eventually. A good thing this wasn’t a winter affair.” He spoke almost in monotone, as though the words were either insurmountably boring or something else was occupying his attention.
 
Stripped, bound, and gagged, the group sat on the forest floor. Those who were conscious peered up at their assailants, helpless. Alys had handed off the second dress to Nessa, and while the others changed, she turned towards the one conscious guard. Crouching beside him, she pulled her dagger and delicately dragged the tip against his bare collarbones, while in the other hand, a gold coin gleamed in the slightest moonlight. It was a long-shot, but perhaps he was willing to be bought, especially if he was inclined to leave behind his post for a good time. "You wouldn't happen to know where exactly I might find the Duke tonight?" She whispered, doe-eyed. For just a moment longer, she kept his options abundantly clear before removing both from view and daring to loosen his gag, just enough to slide it onto his chin.
 
As Lucien turned to stalk the rest of his prey, it appeared as though the rest of the crew had finally found their spines. Sneering at the more coercive methods, Lucien began to strip his target. Luckily he seemed to be of a similar size, and soon Lucien's black attire was covered by the uniform of a guard. As much as he hated this, dark violet was preferable to some of the other Crown that he had had the pleasure of staining red.

Stepping out onto the trailer, pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, Lucien went to join the rest of the group. His footfalls were silent as he cleared his throat and raised his wrist expectantly.

"Now, if one of you would do the honors? Otherwise this becomes a much more dangerous and risky venture." A slight grin accompanied his cool tone. "For you, of course. Rest assured I have no intention of dying on this little 'rescue mission', regardless of this damned bracelet."
 
“What, are you falling for me?” Summer asked with a sway of her skirt, in response to Argent’s gaze lingering for a little too long.

She then approached Alys while still keeping her distance, and watched the guard who struggled to untie himself freeze at the touch of her blade. He seemed to hesitate a bit before answering.

“You don’t know?” He asked, clearly confused. “By this time… probably at the altar. The ceremony must be about to start.”
 
Ceremony?

Alys stared at the guard, silent as she processed the information, eventually connecting it back to what Caleb had told her.

The duke, his two daughters, eldest son and his bride-to-be.

Would you murder five fairies for me? Three of them are women, a beautiful princess included.

Solomon had wanted this done, today. And although she'd known that killing the princess would wage a war, now it felt real. It'd weaken the Floating Isles, deny them an ally to the south - even more than it was now.

Had Caleb known it was their wedding day? Or had he conveniently left out that there might be royalty and their guards present this evening? But why had he gone alone? Unless he'd fled, like a goddamn coward. She didn't know. She didn't trust him, she realized.

Finally, after staring at the guards fearful features, Alys spoke. "Nice night for a wedding. Too bad we won't have any gifts for the happy couple," she said softly, raising the corners of her lips upward slightly. Once the gag was back in place, she rose and turned towards Lucien, who was waiting like a child, as if he'd asked his parents if he could finally play.

With the influx of people and guards gathered behind the towering walls, she had to release him. But not yet. Besides, he'd shown his hand - he could knock people unconscious without triggering Ronan's spirit.

"Doesn't that make it more fun?" The danger and risk. "Don't worry, you'll get your fun soon enough."

Alys paused, looking to everyone else. "Everyone ready? Argent, you're with Ciaran. Summer - with Nessa. And I'm with you," she said, looking to Lucien.
 
The dress was fine, she owned better but it went well enough with her eyes and her earrings didn’t clash with it. Would have been too much of a dead giveaway if her earrings were the wrong color, and the girl’s earrings were simply no good, her necklace was fine though, which is why it now hung around Nessa’s neck. Her dagger found its way to the inside of her thigh, where the skirt would hide it, her lock picking set fit snugly at her waist, and for insurance Nessa had woven one pick into the fabric of her left sleeve and a second she used to draw up her hair.

Her cloak she kept, it looked fine enough to pass for a girl trying to keep out the chill, and now held closed by her other newly acquired piece of jewelry. It was a fine enough ensemble all put together, but she was choosing not to be picky. Because Caleb was her idiot even if she was going to lock him in the brig once they were back on the ship.

“Do we feel like this can get us past the guard house and into the grounds?” Nessa asked, giving her dress a tug at the neck. Royal guards would be on the grounds as well, one alarm and they would have a mess. “If not I’ll need to find us a way in and we’ll just need to look like we belong at a distance.”

She looked to Summer, her partner, with a frown.

“How’s your leg going to be? Can you move fast?”
 
Caleb was gone, but the mission had to go on as long as they appreciated the life of their captain. Wordlessly, he'd read the faces of those who'd witnessed the scene - especially Alys. There was certainly a feeling of confusion and perhaps betrayal in the air. Ciaran couldn't believe Caleb woulda up and leave them behind, not after the show of loyalty he and the others had given him - but then again, maybe that's just what Ciaran wanted to believe. He wanted to believe Caleb had left to level their odds, not to leave them in a vulnerable moment.

It hardly mattered, going through with the mission was all they could do now.

The team moved silently and efficiently, with not a drop of blood spilt wastefully. Ciaran kept to the shadows, letting the vampires do what they did best, and to see Argent in action. He moved with honed elegance and when he brought that blade to the woman's throat he did so thoughtfully - Ciaran had seen the work of men who took such actions lightly.

"Good work. Very clean." He gave Argent's shoulder a ginger tap as he walked past him to aid with the guards.

Once their hostages were stripped, Ciaran took to donning a uniform. It hardly fit well, but the overcoat would hide his prosthetic and any less than perfect fittings. "For a formal event like this, the exterior detail is likely men the lord wants to keep away from the hobnobbers." He'd been there himself, he knew the type who'd be at the guard house and along the wall. Officers and anyone worth their pay was likely inside, dressed up nice for the wedding.

"We'll look like we belong and I'll pull rank if any of those fools muster two thoughts together about who we might be."
 
Summer waved her dress around her and Argent rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as reply before breaking away from his study of her. There was something intangibly off about the girl, something that nagged at his suspicions around the edges of thought and notice. Eventually he intended to find the source of that sense, but for now he let his concerns fall upon the mission at hand.

He nodded once at Alys’ command, and again toward Ciaran for his words. The Master Gunner offered more definition to their infiltration plan, his familiarity with military matters obvious in both his carriage and thought. Argent let his gaze sweep around each member of the team before settling firmly upon the First Mate.

”I imagine everyone attending will be in their finest.” He spoke in a slightly hushed tone, thoughtful as he tugged at his pilfered uniform. ”Perhaps Lucien could escort Miss Alys in as a captured infiltrator, and the rest of us follow shortly after.” He gave Alys a clear once-over to accentuate the point of her attire.

”With luck they might lead our deadliest weapon straight to the Duke on such an important day. It might also give Ciaran and I pretense to search the grounds and locate our other targets. As diligent guards we would need to make sure there were no other wedding crashers about.” The corners of Argent’s lips curled slightly with muted entertainment.
 
Summer smiled innocently at Nessa. She wouldn’t be her first choice for a partner, but it was much better than Lucien.

“I’ll give you no reason to worry.” She said, slightly dodging the question, but hopefully giving her a satisfying response.

“I don’t know if going in with a prisoner is a good idea. We should take advantage of the happiness of the celebration, that is by itself a distraction. Take them as an example.” She gestured at the guards, before turning and walking towards the castle.

“Anything suspicious could make them more cautious, and if they are, I guarantee the guards that will be put in charge of the duke won’t be three new faces.”

As they got close enough to see the walls, but not enough to be noticed, Summer enlaced her arm around Nessa’s, like a good friend would.

"Which way in?"
 
“We need to look like we belong, not like we’re dragging in someone who doesn’t.” Nessa said, with a wave of her hand at the prisoner suggestion. Her gaze turned to Ciaran as he gave his two cents about getting through the guard house. He had the uniform in proper order, and she knew he had the voice to sound authoritative, and those two things could get one into a fair number of restricted places. “So long as Ciaran thinks he can get us through the gate house, then I trust he can.” Nessa added.

“We want to seem like we belong as long as we can manage, soon as an alarm is raised we’ll be fighting whatever detachment of the Duke’s finest he brought along, which I would rather like to avoid.” Nessa paused as Summer spoke, a sour scrunch crossing her lips as the other woman put her arm around her shoulders. She ran the tip of her tongue over the edge of a fang.

“Through the guard house to the inner grounds. Western wing looks like it has gardens, I can open a door or window on that side of the building and we’ll just need to find the ceremony from there.” She paused a moment, her expression not changing. “Once in, we can split up into our pairs. It’s a big palace and we’ll need to find Caleb before he does something very stupid.” Again.
 
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