Private Tales Row, Row, Row Your Boat

[Nere Ashorn]

Pirates!

Of course, Nere would not be an Ashborn if she were afraid of a few pirates. Some days you got safely out of the Bayou, and some days you didn't. That was just the life of a merchant on the edges of civilization. So when a pirate ship had rolled up alongside their merchant vessel soon after leaving port, she had pressed the attack.

That day, it was just an unlucky toss of fate's coin.

She was not sure how many hours it had been since the pirates had overwhelmed them. At some point she had lost consciousness, and when she awoke she found her sense of time muffled by the wooden walls of the brig she'd been tossed in. Now Nere lay prone on the the bottom of the pirate vessel, hands and feet tied up in a competent knot. The being tied up was the least of her worries, truth be told. She had other things on her mind.

Only two of them had survived long enough to be taken captive. She prayed silently for the crew of her father's ship, asking Tychan to ferry their souls safely to the stars. But an irritating little thought kept interrupting her prayer. The other survivor, had he been there at the battle? She couldn't recall.

Nere rolled onto her side and wormed over to the other prisoner. "Good sir," she said, though she suspected that he was neither good nor of noble spirit. "Are you unharmed?"

 

[Zakarias]

The dark haired man beside her smiled a grim smile. His deathly pale face was framed by sweaty strands of long black locks, and his skin was marred purple and blue and angry reds, made all the redder by the ripped and tattered motley he wore, stained and ruined as it was. "I am quite harmed, yes, thank you for asking," he hissed at her as he wriggled and wormed against the wood floor, his face plastered to the worn planks. "You are a surviver of the last attack, I take it?" his voice sounded too happy considering their predicament. "Here, chew through my bindings, and then I will untie yours."

 

[Andraste Monagan]

Andraste pushed the long stave into the waters of the swamp. Moving easily through the waters, perhaps a bit too easily compared to anyone else. Andie had the ability to manipulate and direct water, so a little encouragement here or there helped her to move easily through the swamp. A stuffed bag sat at her feet. It was full of stolen materials and she was heading back to the pirate stronghold. Really it was just a small flotilla of ships that would tie together for safety.

At the center was a great vessel, it was the ship ran by the pirate Mansfield. He ruled these waters because he had been the strongest of the pirates in these waters. There were other pirate groups of course, this was just the one that she'd become a part of when she was young. The worst decision of her life. Now she couldn't get away. She was stuck. Stuck paying tribute to a fat old pirate who no longer was in his prime, yet some how remained in control of the group. She knew how he remained in control, bribes, promises. Pft. Worthless sacks of shit.

The wooden planks of her raft bumped against the hold of one of the outer most ships.

"Oui! Who's that?" a voice shouted as a head peered over the edge. "Oh it's just ye Andraste. The Captain has been lookin' for ye."

"Of course he is." She grumbled. As she tossed the tied back up onto the ship above her before climbing up herself. Once at the top, she picked up the neck of the bag.

"Don't dawdle. Ye know he doesn't like to be kept waiting." said the old pirate lookout.

Andie didn't respond and just moved into the interior of the ships. Pirates laughed and drank all around the interior of the mass of ships. She heard snippets of conversation as she walked toward the Captain's quarters. Apparently, they'd caught a large haul that day. Some merchant ship and it's captain that was some noble's get. So not only the cargo in the ship's hold, but also the ransom they'd get from the family for the safe return of the hostage. The pirate felt a bit of envy, the prisoner would one day be able to leave this filth, but not today.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Blue eyes met crazed silver ones as Nere stared blankly at her fellow prisoner. She blinked.

"That won't be necessary," she responded flatly, a pillar of control in contrast to the man's - fae's? - frantic wriggling.

Nere grunted as she rolled onto her belly. Her shoulders wriggled in an awkward configuration as she strained to reach some spot on her arm with her other hand. She muttered an ancient version of the Common tongue under her breath, a short spell.

A line of runes lit up along her forearm, the shadow of a dagger writ upon her skin. One hand grabbed at the shadow's hilt and it became solid in her grip. She pulled. The ropes holding her arms severed as the blade of the dagger became solid.

"Once we get out of this holding cell, we should split up," Nere said as she flipped over and sawed apart the ropes binding her legs. "I believe these fiends have mistaken me for some sort of nobility to ransom off. They will go after me, first. We can take advantage of that - I will create a distraction on the upper deck so that you can get to safety."

Nere stood over the bound and tied man in his motley, dagger in hand.

"Just one last thing." Her gaze was what one might call cold, if they couldn't think of a better word. "If I untie you, will I regret it?"

 

[Zakarias]

"Won't be necessarry?" he chided, his voice still a low hiss as he glared at her. "What could be more necessary?"

She moved about, and then began to let old words of magick flow from her mouth.

"Oh ho," he said, surprised, light and airy. "You have magick," he clapped his hands, still bound behind him. Awkwardly together, a small and manic round of applause. "How nice, how useful." he smiled wide as he watched her saw through the ropes. He didn't really hear what she said, his eyes still glued to the knife.

What sort of magick was that? "Where did you learn that?" he asked, his eyes hungry with curiosity.

She stood up, and asked him a question. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly disgusted with her. Still, he smiled a greasy smile. "Only one way to find out," he wriggled, like a snake. "Come now, stop wasting our time, cut me free, or else you'll have a hard time getting out of this place alone." He flopped and gestured as he could with his hands. His fingers pointed, again and again as he wormed them toward the ropes.

 

[Andraste Monagan]

Andie had heard the old fat bastard out as he complained about the things she brought back as her tithes. There wasn't enough gold, it didn't cover her supposed debts. How she was ungrateful that he'd taken her in and fed and clothed her, etc etc. The same thing every time. She didn't join him for protection or to be his slave. She'd joined because she thought pirates had adventures, she thought she'd get to see the world this way. More than her little hovel in the swamp.

She left the man's "throne room" and headed back into the flotilla proper. What could she do to get off this sticking scrap heap. The young woman chewed on her lip before she remembered. There was some rich kid in the prison. If she helped them escape, maybe the kids family would help her get away from this wreck.

The swamp witch turned and with purposeful steps moved through the jeering crowds toward the hold where the prisoners were kept. She swiped some snoring drunkards ale and a few coins from a pocket or two. She'd need something to bribe the guard with if she was hopping to get in to talk with the prisoner. If the person wasn't worth her time, she'd leave them there in the cell.

Before she walked into view of the guard, she reached into one of the many pouches at her side to pull out powdered herb that was wrapped in wax paper. Andie was good with plants. She knew what kind of medicinal traits and qualities most of the plant had in the swamp. This particular one was often used to help people sleep. Sometimes she'd have to make a draught for the fat pirate bastard. This time she poured a little of the powder into the ale, swirled it around a bit and then walked into view of the guard with a smile on her face.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

There was something hauntingly cheery about the large man's voice. It was a horn that wheezed and whined, a bell that constantly rang. Nere felt his eyes land on the knife in her hand, and then, on her. The smile was slick, the pale silver eyes flush with contempt.

She gripped the knife more tightly in her bruised knuckles, swallowing her unease. Then, she knelt down and placed the pommel of the dagger into the cup of the man's hand. Despite his flopping around, her movement was sure.

"Here," she said, standing back up once more. "Keep the dagger, you'll need it more than I." She turned her back on the strange elf man. Perhaps a mistake, but one had to put the first trusting foot forward. That's how civilization was built.

Next on her mind was the matter of the guard keeping post outside the brig's door. Though Nere had only a foggy memory of being dragged into the dark hull of the pirate's ship, she knew there was a guard somewhere. There always was.

She crouched down low, creeping to the edge of the door. A flicker of firelight shining through the slatted opening atop the door revealed a long, narrow hall running outside. Down one end of the hall, she could hear voices.

Quietly, as quietly as she could, Nere breathed another spell under her breath. More runes along her other arm lit a pale yellow. From the length of it she pulled a sharp and gleaming sword, its silver edge well tended. She stilled herself, a warrior's discipline guiding her breath, and strained to listen to the semi-distant conversation ahead.

And behind, her attention never quite left the strange man in his stranger garb.

---

"Ho there, Andie! Always good fortune to see your pretty face, but the boss said specifically not to let nobody down here," called out the pirate guard to the woman that approached him. He was leaning casually against the side of the ship, a long fishing spear leaning up next to him. The human's name was Mac, an amicable man (as far as pirates went), with a stubborn simplicity that made him especially good at guard work.

He eyed the drink in Andie's hand, but didn't mention it. Mac leaned his head forward, and a lock of his curling dark hair fell into his face, casting a shadow there. "Didn't hear it from me, but there's a big fish in there. Too big to risk a look at, so best be on your way now."

 

[Zakarias]

Narrower still his stare did turn and wider still his smile did spread. Knife in hand, he watched her turn. He took hold of the blade, firm. Flicked it around with a toss. Caught it in his hand. He cut his ties loose, easy and quick.

He laughed, low and hot and pleased as he rubbed one wrist with his thumb, then rolled the other. The knife blade gleamed all the while. His eyes cut to the young woman, crouched as she was by the door. Watched her will another weapon out from her flesh. "How curious," he rumbled behind her. Flicked the knife again to catch it blade away. He cut free his feet and rose up to croutch behind her. "What is your name, girl?" he asked, whispering dark and hushed.

 

[Andraste Monagan]

"Good evening Mac." Replied Andie as she ignored his initial warning. "And here I brought this ale just for ye." She pouted as she held out a mug. "I figured they like as not forgot about ye in here this night and guarding some spoilt brat ain't much exciting. Nor much for feeding the belly or slacking yer thirst either. " She waited for the man to take it.

She leaned to the side on her toes a little peering down the hall that would lead to the cells, over exaggerating the need to look. "Who'd ya manage to catch anyways? I heard from the crew they were from a rich family." She glanced back at him. "Oh just let me have just the wee-est of peeks." She attempted to coerce with a smile. Hopefully Mac would take the ale soon and drink. It wouldn't take long for him to pass out afterward.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Cautiously, Mac took the offered ale. He sloshed the mug around, dark eyes gazing into the pale brew. Then he leaned down and sniffed it.

His fellow pirate's words interrupted his investigation. "Aye, rich as anyone can get in the Bayou," Mac confirmed, looking back up at Andie. He forgot all about his prior caution and lifted the mug to his lips, taking a long drought. "Listen 'ere, I know ya want to be helpful, but I heard this one put up a decent fight when we sacked her ship. It'd be dangerous for you to go and look."

Another slosh of the drink. Mac's dark curls bobbed against his forehead as he nodded his head. "Hey, where's your drink? Don't tell me you saved the last of the batch for..." He trailed off, blinking slowly. Mac's world was swimming into blackness, his vision blurring already from the sleeping powder. "For... hwuh? Andie, what'd you do?"

Mac wasn't sure whether to reach out Andie or grab at his spear in his last moments of consciousness. A betrayed looked flashed across his face before he thudded to the ground, not to get back up for several more hours.

---

The dagger given to the stranger gleamed in the corner of Nere eye like a silverfish waiting to strike. She strained to hear the conversation at the end of the hall, split as her focus was. Sounded like two of them, a friendly conversation, then... something less friendly. A body hitting the ground? She gave a slight shake of her head. Unlikely, since there had been no sound of struggle.

She strained to glean more from the sounds behind the door, but an interruption shifted her focus. Nere's nose scrunched up into a scowl when she heard the man's whisper, much too close behind her for comfort.

"My name is Nere Ashorn," she whispered in response, prompted by good manners. Nere twisted around far enough to put a hand on the elf's shoulder, urging him back with a firm nudge. "And you should not be so close to me."

Whatever annoyance Nere was feeling drained out of her as she sensed footsteps from the other side. She scooted over to the edge of the doorframe, muscles in her arm tightening and loosening with the weight of her dagger. "Be ready, someone is coming."

 

[Zakarias]

"Nere Ashorn," The large pale man repeated, his long canines glint in the lantern light, pleased as a snake that eyed its next meal. Just a little closer now, a few more steps left to take. "You have my thanks," he hissed happily, and his fingers played with the tip of the knife's blade. Skin welled about the point that threatened, ever so, to pop its tension and let out all that was there behind it. But it never did, he just went on, turning it this way and that.

She begged him back, and he squinted like a cat, and nodded, yes yes, without a word.

 

[Andraste Monagan]

Andie felt kind of guilty as the betrayal shown in Mac's eyes as his vision began to black out from the drugs. "I'm sorry Mac, I just can't stay here any longer." She bent down and removed the keys from his belt. She sorted through them trying to figure out which might unlock the cells behind her. Why did they have so many keys?! It wasn't like there were this many locked doors in the whole of their little floating city.

She finally just picked one out at random. She'd just have to try them all, Mac would be out for a couple of hours and she hoped it wouldn't take that long to get out of her. The woman moved to the door listening carefully for footsteps coming from behind. She didn't know if anyone was supposed to be relieving Mac at any point.

The woman tried first one key, it didn't work, then a second, and finally a third before the key turned in the lock with an audible click. She put her hand on the handle and began to pull the door open.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Something foul and arcane slipped quietly into place as the pale elf repeated her name, something like dread, but Nere did not have time to pursue the feeling.

The door was opening, and Nere was moving along with it, leaping forward and slinking around the widening edge in a fluid motion. She led the charge with her shoulder, her free hand grappling for whoever was behind the door, putting her whole weight into the surprise attack. The tip of the sword in her other hand trailed behind her body, angled to be out of the way of the rush, but ready to strike if needed.

She just hoped that the stranger elf would stay out of the way. If it was just the one guard, there was no need to shed more blood on this escape.

 

[Zakarias]

Zakarias stood and watched as the two smaller bodies wrestled and wriggled for position. "Oh," he cooed with amusement. "She poisoned her fellow," he giggled some behind his toothy smile. "Now, why oh why would she go and do a thing like that?" He asked as he bent low, movement all sweep and drama as he investigated the freshly fallen guard. His eyes glanced back at the pirate and his fellow prisoner. "Pray tell, little pirate, why poison your fellow, and open our door?" his voice held back laughter, just roiling beneath his tongue.

 

[Andraste Monagan]

Something, or rather someone, pushed open the door as Andie pulled it open. She was surprised, had Mac not locked the prisoners into one of the cells? It was a split second thought before the body charged into her causing her to let out a surprised squawk, one hand moving to grapple at her. The woman didn't have her weapon with her as she'd left it leaning against the wall when she'd come in. Her hands having been full with the pints and she hadn't expected that she would need to fight.

Andie let the other person's momentum carry her to the floor, not the greatest position to be in but it was better than trying to fight a stronger opponent physically. That is why she normally fought with a spear. Keeping her opponents at a distance gave her an advantage, in this close quarters, not so much. The woman chose not to fight against the grapple, instead using her magic to call upon the grog nearby. For the first time, she was happy that the pirates watered down their drinks. The water gave her something to work with and even without the grog, she could have called on the water under the ships it just would have taken longer.

The liquid sprayed in the direction of her attacker's face, directed by her control, and Andie tried to roll away while the other was distracted. Another voice, a second person she hadn't even had time to realize was there in the chaos shouted about how she'd poisoned the guard. "Not poisoned," she coughed still breathing heavily from being struck so hard. "Drugged!"

"I want my freedom." She gasped out in conclusion.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Normally a little splash of water in the face wouldn't do anything but refresh Nere, but it was thrown at such a velocity that it stung. Her grip weakened as she recoiled, and she felt herself lose the high ground as the pirate rolled away from her. One hand wiping away the stinging grog, Nere prepared herself for the counter attack, but it never came. Instead, the pirate woman responded quite politely, or as polite as one could be in such a situation.

"What a funny coincidence," Nere replied to the other woman when freedom was mentioned. "So do I."

She straightened her posture and lowered her sword, its gleaming tip pointing to the belly of the ship. It would have been a much more impressive pose, were her hair not soaked with grog and her clothes tattered from the previous battle. "Perhaps we can help each other."

 

[Zakarias]

At the gasp of freedom, the pale man laughed, and laughed louder still when his cellmate admitted she sought the same and his hands clapped quick little claps.

"Souls in three, how they do, wish to be free," he chuckled and smiled behind the two women who had grappled and struggled and fought. All the while, his happy knife gleamed bright in his hand as he gestured comically. "And you drugged the man," he said sharply, as he long stepped toward the door, and the downed man. He took the cutlass the man wore at his belt, and looked back at the two with his eyes of silver.

"Well, we best be moving, if you ask me." he smiled a wide smile, and his eyes burned angry.

 

[Andraste Monagan]

Andie felt the tension end as the other woman step back and lowered her sword. The clown man clapped happily, perhaps it was meant to be joyful, but she really found it more creepy than anything.

"I didn't want him killed." Andie said in response to the clown about drugging the pirate. "Mac was kind to me, I didn't want to hurt him." She almost stepped forward to stop the clown, worried that he was going to slit Mac's throat while he was down, but he just pilfered the man's weapon.

"I can lead you out. Just let me join you." She offered. She just wanted out of this hell hole.