Open Chronicles Cortosi Cruising

[Prince Vanieron]

Spoiler

The Noldor Fleet by mrsvein872

STRAITS OF CORTOS, 20 LEAGUES FROM ARVALION
ON THE BACK OF THE WEST WIND

"Heavy away, my lads, round the Spear and back again!" Vanieron's deep voice boomed through the air from where he stood at the tiller, feet spread away, in a deep sing-song voice. From below on the oar-deck and the rigging above, a chorus of voices echoed back.

"We're bound for Al-lir-ia!" The great sheets of canvas above him rippled and tightened as the two lateen-rigged sails caught the breeze and the ship heeled over towards shore. Around him, the four other ships in the crusing squadron followed suit, their sharp silver-gilt prows and bronze ramming spurs gleaming in the clear sunlight.

"If we a see ag grumpy lord!" Vanieron called again, setting the tiller straight as he gauged the wind and current's effects on the vessel compared to the gap in the forest where the river opened.

"We'll kick him in the Vel Anir!" The answer came back again.

"Tighten that sail, reef the bowyard!" Vanieron paused to call out. There was a flurry of activity as the smaller sails connected to the bowsprit were taken in to leave it clear, lessening the sideways pressure he felt rumbled through the tiller. The ship steadied on its course before he started the next line.

"And if we see a stuffy wizard!" His voice softened as another of the ships ran up a pair of flags and moved lanterns in a specific pattern.

"We'll tell him to Elbi-gone!" The verse was almost finished, and Vanieron sang out the last line.

"And if we see a Cerak slave-ship!"

This time the chorus was stronger and bolder. "We'll stick their heads upon their mast!"

"Heavy away, my lads! Round the Spear and back again," The final line and then the chorus. "We're bound for All-ir-ia." There was silence in the air for a few moments save for the flapping of the sails and the steady grinding of the oars in their oarlocks.

The shore was coming up and now and Vanieron could make out the trees that lined the river's entrance. More concerningly, a great column of smoke billowed back from where the trading village should have roughly been.

"Sails ho!" The lookout called from her perch atop the biggest mast, next to the polished glass lens that magnified the horizon, and with the addition of a second lens, could intensify sunlight as a weapon. "Fifteen points off the starboard bow, hard-heeling under full sail to the so-south-east, two hundred cables! All the markings of a Cerak slave ship!"

Vanieron considered for a long moment then nodded to the Ship-Maester. "Signal the Aelion and the Bellarin to proceed to the village and assist the village. The rest stay with me." He raised his voice. "Brace yourselves! Oar-Chief, hard to starboard!" And then came that command that echoed in every mariner's boots and got the blood surging. Vanieron looked over his should to where his first mate kept an eye on the deck crew. "Tiran, horn to quarters."

The two ships peeled off under full sail and full-speed beating on the oar-drums as the mariners raced the last few miles to shore and then into the river-delta to try and catch the fire before it spread too far and reached the forests. Around Vanieron, Tiran hefted the spike-whale horn and sounded three, urgent blasts that echoed and rang across the water. The pounding of feet echoed through the ship as the other two took up the call and it sang far and wide across the sea. The pounding of the rower's drum halted as the rowers took up arms and armor, while above them, ports in the hull slid open and flickering torchlight revealed fifteen ballistae to each side and their crews, while contingent of armored marines hurried up from below decks and took positions along the deck with shield and short pike, while others with crossbows scurried to the fighting platform and the great lens at the top swiveled to point out the location of the fleeing vessel.

The ship's leaped ahead in speed and drove through the water, tacking across the breeze that had fortunately increased. Great waves broke across the bow and splashed along the deck as jars of sand were opened and their contents spread along the deck. The dot on the sea ahead of them grew rapidly. It was sleek and knife-like in its design, and was overloaded with canvas.

But the three ships were the Azar-- the ships designed for speed and precision and maneuverability while still having the teeth to take on most ships they would find. And with the sails billowing full and the oars moving at speed driven by the Arvalion's loathing for piracy and slavery, they closed the gap, until the smaller vessel darted towards shore, where they could just make out a fishing village surrounded by fishing boats, who took to their oars as the ship raced towards them. Flaming rocks hurtled from the deck of the fleeing ship and crashed among the docks as Vanieron watched its razor's keel slice through a fishing dory.

The wind that gave them such speed to the eastward slowed them as they turned back northward. And it pushed the flames from the catapult into the village proper, where it started to catch in the village roofs.

Vanieron's fingers tightened on the tiller until his replacement took it to allow him to buckle on his sword and mail and shield. His gaze hardened as he watched the slave ship shatter another dory in its race to the river, leaving the fishers to flounder in the surging tide. He had a choice to make. "End the pursuit." Vanieron finally said. "Have the others as well. Send the Falas back to guide the others. We'll pick up survivors and help fight the fire here."

The beat of the oars slackened and ropes thrown over the side as the warships slowed amongst the fishing fleet and battered and bruised fishermen were hauled back aboard, along with what remained of their vessels when possible.

Meanwhile, the slave ship darted up the river and disappeared into the trees. "We will find them." Vanieron said, letting his voice echo out. "They can't sail all the way back to an ocean by going upriver."

The question was how they were going to catch such a ship on foot or in small-boats, or perhaps there were other travelers and parties with horses who could aid them.

 

[Aeress]

Aeress sighed as she absentmindedly began to loot the bodies of the unconscious bandits. She had recently arrived at Cortos looking for work but with thieves and pirates lurking around every corner, it was difficult to travel to more populated areas to find employment. Every few hours like clockwork, another group of thugs would ambush her. Their hiding spots were certainly unique. In the most recent attack, the group had been lingering underwater, waiting for her to pass by and then grabbing at her ankles. Or rather, they tried to grab her ankles. She'd kicked away their hands before they could so much as touch her.

Realizing they failed to grab her, the group emerged from the water with reckless abandonment. They swung at her with makeshift clubs and crude daggers, tried to throw dirt in her face, and pull at her hair. She had unsheathed her own weapon, a sharp katana with a black hilt that was hidden beneath her dress and attacked back with swift, strong strikes. Her sword cut through their flesh like it was made of paper. Many of the bandits ended up with slit necks while the other, more unfortunate ones were slashed completely in half.

They didn't have much on them, just a few knickknacks and a small pouch of coins. They probably stashed their more valuable items away for safekeeping. A pity really. Aeress peered down at the blood pooling at her feet as hunger stir within her. She hadn't had blood for quite a while so she figured there was no harm in indulging herself to the bodies of the thieves. No one would miss them anyways

Roughly grabbing the nearest body, she turned to take cover in some brush growing near the river. It would take her a while to finish her meal and it would be unfortunate to have any witnesses.

The water faltered as stronger waves crashed to the shore. After several moments she removed her fangs from her meal to turn and watch the vessel go by. A slave ship, she noted absentmindedly; that's what she had heard. She dropped the body of the thief careless and whistled for her mount. It was clearly recovering from the aftermath of fleeing, from what, Aeress could only guess. Whatever it was running from, it would catch up soon enough and she didn't feel like getting caught up in that type of mess.

She dug the heel of her boot into the neck of her meal, crushing his windpipe and erasing the teeth marks. Then she turned and waited. Several seconds passed before she spotted the familiar outline of her horse. The mare, who she often called Nyx, approached from her slowly, clearly unhappy that she had been disrupted. Nyx had been grazing in a field nearby.

Aeress quickly mounted the mare and began to head in the direction of the port town. It was smoking. She had a really bad feeling about this.

 

[Titus Phane]

At least half of the village was up in flames and still that pirate ship hurled its flaming payload at the defenseless houses. The village was in total chaos and the people in a panic as they rushed about, some fleeing to the forest, some to the river, and others to the docks.
But not all was chaos, a few men were able to organize and worked to put out the fires, creating several bucket brigades from the well and the river to save what they could.

Some organized to rescue those trapped in their homes, especially near the beach. They wore the heaviest coats they could find and wrapped soaked scarves over their faces to keep out the smoke. Surprisingly a butler headed this group.
He was a young man, well groomed and we'll dressed for service to a wealthy master. But now his face was covered in soot, his clothes tattered and his hair and hands singed.
He charged out of another burning building with a young boy in his arms and a tongue of flame chasing his coattails. He quickly handed the boy off and immediately dove to the dust, rolling over and over while a few others threw sand over him to put out any live flames on him.

Titus Phane climbed to his knees, pulling down his scarf to breath in the comparatively fresher outside air and coughing up blackened phlegm from his lungs. Their efforts were producing results it seemed... The bucket brigade was making its way here and they only had a few houses and people to account for before they could join the brigade themselves.
Coughing once more he stood up and looked around as another man came to his side, the man shouted to be heard over the roar of the flames, "The houses by the beach are clear! we've only this row left to make sure nobody was trapped inside!"
Titus nodded in acknowledgement and shouted his reply, "Good, let's hurry then! Gather everyone up and let's move!"

The group of rescuers rushed down the path to the next burning house, they called out and listened for anything above the flames. Since Titus knew a little magic he used it to scan for signs of life, finding none and hearing nothing they wasted no time in going to the last house. This time there was someone trapped inside. Titus quickly re-soaked his scarf, took a deep breath and wrapped it around his head before he and another man kicked down the door and charged in with axes in hand.

Titus wasn't one of the villagers, owed them nothing and vise versa. He had merely stopped for the night only to wake up to this fateful day.
He had no reason to risk his life for these people, but he did so out of principal.
And now he was rushing through flames from room to room searching for the trapped person. They found the elderly man on the floor with his thigh trapped under a burning beam, the roof was unstable and could crash down at any moment so they had to work fast.
Using the axes they broke the beam down to a managible size so they could move it off the old man. The leg was probably broken but the ceiling was groaning, they had no time to move cautiously.
Putting the old man's arms around his neck Titus lifted him up and bolted for the door with his partner close behind. The leapt out of the flames just as the roof caved in.
Once more dropping to the dirt the put out any flames that might have caught them.

"This was the last one, let's get out of this smoke before we all perish!"
Titus and everyone were in agreement and they made their way towards the river bucket brigade. The wind was blowing the flames and smoke towards the forest in the opposite direction, so the river was the safest place to go until the wind changed.

Once they arrived at the river they collapsed to the unburned grass on the banks and splashed water over themselves. Titus vigorously washed his face while his throat did its best to expel the smoke tar in his lungs.
Thoroughly soaked he sighed and leaned against a tree near the river road, letting his body rest for a moment. He would join the brigade soon, but he had to rest or die.

 

[Prince Vanieron]

"Reef sails and hoses to the bilge pump!" Vanieron called across the deck as the ship glided into the burning port. The flaming weapons of the slavers had done a number on the village, but they had been able to organize quickly, and had done an excellent job of containing the fire and getting people out of the burning homes.

The ship sailed into the river delta. "Back oars!" Vanieron roared and the ship came to a halt, using the long sweeps to hold it in position between the river flow and the tide. "Bilge pumps, away!"

At the bow of the ship, where the arcing neck of a swan rose above the prow and off to the side of the bowsprit, streams of water sprayed up from the river and out towards the docks. Steam hissed where the droplets landed on the fire.

"Row us in nice and close!" He called and the drumbeat shifted, crawling the ship sideways and slightly diagonally until it hung just on the edge of the blaze. "Steady on there!"

The other ships couldn't get close enough with the lead one in the river, but they dropped anchor and sent boats up the river to where they could see the bucket brigade, along with more buckets and willing hands, quick to go where they were needed and ask where they could best be of assistance.

Meanwhile, a team of mariners worked the great pump-handles, sending gouts of water up from the ship's bilge and into the air towards the village.

Aeress Titus Phane

 

[Aeress]

Aeress carefully maneuvered her way around the river's edge, avoiding the smoking town. The village was likely abandoned by now and the young woman had no interest in inhaling the ashy residue that covered the town like snow. She was only here for work. If anything, she supposed this fire was helpful. People might be willing to pay her to assist in rebuilding the port. On the other hand, though, the townfolk probably lost most of their possessions in the fire and had little money to spare.

If nothing else, she could turn back and go after the slave ship. Even if there was little to loot, selling the lumber to the locals would profit her greatly. Perhaps the buyers would even be inclined to share any information they had on peculiar races resembling shadows. Aeress sighed quietly as she approached the bucket brigade. Helping others was something her family had greatly disapproved of. Yet, assisting those in need when results were favorable was rewarded and often encouraged.

She sighed again, dismounting the dark mare and waving her off. Nyx quickly obliged, walking over to a cool, grassy patch beneath the trees. She nibbled at the grass with her ears perked up and body on alert; she was a mercenary's horse after all. Aeress gave herself a few moments to breathe before resigning herself to the work. A small scruffy man with a brilliant auburn beard made her a place in line and thanked her for helping. He began talking about his family, his work as a blacksmith, and anything else he could seem to think of. She listened quietly and nodded whenever the moment seemed appropriate. He was rather stubborn in trying to get her to talk, asking anything from her name and where she was from to something as insignificant as her favorite color.

She pointedly ignored his questions, only acknowledging him when he began to talk about himself. Even if she was helping to increase her favor with the villagers, she had no desire to talk or mingle with them.

 

[Titus Phane]

He dozed off for a minute, his chest ached and his throat and lungs were sore from ejecting smoke, needless to say he needed the few moments to recover in the relative safety by the river.
He was awoken by the sound of hooves on the dirt road and a rider dismounting. He opened his eyes and was fairly surprised to see an attractive woman sending her horse off to graze while she went to join the bucket brigade.
He thought it unlikely that she didn't see him against a tree by the road, her equipment spoke of her profession and good observational skills would certainly be in her resumé. But if she did notice him she gave no indication.

Just as well, this is a good reminder for him to get up and get back to work as well. After all it was a butlers duty to serve.
He got up and joined the bucket brigade on her other side, lending his hand in running back and forth and passing off the bucket as quickly as possible to the next person and bringing back empty ones.
They had quite a few buckets going up and down the line. Occasionally everyone in the line would shift as they moved to the next housefire.
Titus worked dutifully and hard, but the bucket handles weren't doing his scorched hands any favors. He wasn't the only one who struggled with this work, several others were similarly burned or even cut and so the bucket handles had the added hazard of being slippery, even after someone wrapped a handkerchief around the handles it only lasted for so long.
But everyone worked uncomplaining.

As Titus passed an empty bucket back to the mercenary he gave her a weak smile and his voice was hoarse, "Welcome to Kaako Village, M'lady. Apologies for the mess, we weren't expecting visitors."

 

[Zara]

Bareback astride a sleek brown mare, the lithe sand elf clothed in heavy blue robes, paused at the sight of smoke rising over the hills. The octad of horses she was delivering for her tribesmen pawing at the ground behind her as they sensed the danger in the air. She inhaled deeply, the faint smell of fire filling her nose. It was not the odor of burning timbers or forest, the smoke was too black. Her eyes, the only visible portion of her body that were visible behind her veiled face and heavily clothed body, shot up in surprise as she realized what was going on. Beyond the hills and treeline, along the shoreline a small fishing village was smoldering.

With a shrill yip and whistle, Zara spurned her horses to a gallop. Even as a desert-dweller, Zara knew that fire was very bad, especially for people who’s whole lives were spent building a life in one location. They tended to place a strong level of worth on their belongings and homes. Racing towards the nearby shoreline, Zara rushed forward with hopes of lending aid where she may.

Making the shoreline, Zara and her equine stock thundered forward. Water churned white beneath their hooves as they rounded the corner. It was then that the kindled village came into view as did the brigade of citizens and do-gooders alike, working to save the town.

“What happened here?” Zara wondered aloud as she brought the horses to a trot and then a walk. Dismounting as she made the shoreline, Zara hurried forward, the purebred Amil mares whinnying and throwing back their manes in protest behind her. Approaching the brigade, she grabbed a bucket and passed it along the line from those filling water to those further up the shore. “Did everyone get out ok? Who did this?”

Zara surveyed the town and the shoreline. She did not see the awaiting vessels she was supposed to be delivering the eight mares to. For the moment, she decided to turn her focus to helping. Once the crisis was averted, she would make enquiries about her client, but until then if she and her charges could be of some service, she was practically required to help. Passing by peoples in such need went against the very core of her being.

 

[Prince Vanieron]

Zara Aeress Titus Phane

Despite the chaos and the catastrophe that loomed over them all, the fires were being brought under control. Between the bucket brigade and the bilge pumps, the village was rapidly being thoroughly doused in seawater, and the sea breeze carrying the water farther in from the shore to cover the rest of the town.

"Signal the others to moor at the jetties," Vanieron said finally, shading his eyes with one hand. "The bulk of the fire is away from the docks now." He turned to one of the fishermen they'd, well, fished from the waters. "What village is this?"

"Kaako, my lord," the old man said, wringing water out of his hair. "And by ken, yer one of them Arvalion Sea-Princes." The old man started to bow, but Vanieron caught his shoulder and gently prevented him.

"Indeed, I am. Vanieron Nolafieran. My father is the High-Prince of Arvalion. And do not bow to me, my friend. We were the ones who brought this upon you."

The fisherman laughed and spat over the side. "Ye may be a Sea-Prince, but ye ain't got the sense of an old man yet."

Vanieron cleared his throat awkwardly. "I am four scores of years old, although I may not look it." The old man laughed.

"So is my brother and he still reckons whistling at women in the marketplace will make them like him. Them lots that passed through with their fireballs were bad folk. They and them alone bear the weight for what happened today."

Vanieron opened his mouth, but then shut it when he realized he had no words to say. The three ships nudged into the jetty and cast ropes to the docks by the sea-front. Vanieron was the first to drop down onto the jetty and tie the knots into place.

"Fan out in teams. Take the man-sized pumps and put out the rest of the fires. I'll go check on the survivors over by the other side."

 

[Aeress]

Aeress briefly glanced over at the young man at her side. He was tall, much taller than herself, with a sturdy frame coated in ash. She took the bucket from him wordlessly and nodded at his greeting. Then she handed the bucket along.

Her gloves were long abandoned, hidden inside the pockets of her cloak, leaving her bare hands to haul the pails. While her clothing appeared delicate, most of it was made of highly durable fabric with thin metal armor plating the inside of her dress. Her gloves, however, were an exception. She only wore them to give off a more delicate aura. It was helpful to appear dainty when working on missions that required espionage.

A new woman joined the brigade, questions flying from her mouth. The woman was foreign, like Aeress herself, but seemed genuinely concerned for the village. When you grew up in a family of assassins, you were used to others being negligent and uncaring. Even after mingling with the general public for several hundred years, kindness was still a very confusing concept to the mercenary. She interrupted that train of thought quickly and resigned herself to the task at hand. It was easier not to dwell on it.