Tag: sailors

#Lore24 – Entry #132 – Muckenmyre Month #11 – The Twin Twats from Tempest Tor

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

Quite the colorful phrasing, that, I must admit.  I suppose it’s fitting enough considering the name of the bar itself.

Though Blackjaw had described their skin as different colors, he insisted that the pair indeed looked identical.  Such things are not unheard of, given the chaotic nature of mazoku blood.  As we spoke to him further, and some of the more cooperative sailors still lingering in the bar, we learned that their names were Charity and Chastity, though my instincts told me those names were certainly NOT accurate descriptions of their natures.  We learned that no insignificant amount of coin had gone missing from the sailors’ pockets, and it’s likely that the two had used some charm magic to stir up the rage as a distraction while they slipped out unnoticed, for there was already suspicion on where the coin had gone.

Once the mayor and I had departed the Bloated Floater, for Satella had stayed to tend to those we had injured, we learned that two mazoku had been spotted running down the Span, had snatched a couple of horses from some of the travelers visiting the city, and rode as fast as possible through the market and out of the gates and onto the Grimbridge Way, tossing a few spells as they went to clear the evening crowd out of their path.  I picked up on their scents even as we crossed the Span and surveyed the damage to the market; mazoku are as rare as kerryn in Grimbridge, and they have a very unique quality to their scent, born of their demonic blood, not unlike brimstone, flavored with, in this case, an elemental affinity.  Oddly, it was only then that I realized that I had not gotten such a scent from Ashelyr when I had met her that morning, only the scent of the swamp.

With the blessing of Mayor Pleasence, I began questioning the sailors at the docks, discovered which ship had brought the twins in, and began to form a picture of what they were truly like.  They were known troublemakers, having booked passage from a city called Taross, far to the east, and around the southern tip of the continent, on the run from the authorities there.  The captain professed that he had nearly thrown them overboard several times because of their constant disruptions with his crew, but each time had been convinced otherwise, cursing their persuasive abilities, which tended towards using their not-insignificant sexual talents.  They are trained in the arcane arts as well; the red-skinned one, Charity, or Char, prefers fire magic, while Chastity, Chas, the blue-skinned one, prefers ice magic, and both had displayed considerable skill with their talents, at least possessing the ability to create destructive balls of their preferred elements, another reason the captain had hesitated to toss them off his ship.  On reflection, he wishes that he had gone ahead and took the risk, for the generous sum they had paid him for their passage had been taken, along with most of his other funds, about the time they had docked in Grimbridge.

As to the colorful moniker Blackjaw had labeled them with, the sailors had heard it before, but could not tell me exactly where it had originated, only that Tempest Tor was a town in the far northeast with a reputation for producing disreputable sorts.  Apparently, Charity and Chastity had earned quite the reputation even before they had wound up in Taross looking for passage out of the region.

Whatever lead they had managed while I investigated them wouldn’t matter for long.  I had hunted many enemies of the Empire in my life, set on their trails with little else but their physical descriptions, if that, and eventually rooted them out in the end, so knowing more of the twins’ natures would make things much simpler.  I would see to it these two were brought in for whatever justice was deemed necessary. 

They would not escape me.

I was not entirely sure why I made this declaration to myself then, and later to the mayor and Satella.  Perhaps during my short time in Grimbridge, I had grown rather protective of the town that had shown me such kindness?  Perhaps it was just my belief that the law existed for a reason, and it should be respected and obeyed?  Perhaps my short time living outside the Empire had already tainted my mind?  Was this…living free, making a decision like that on my own?  Or was I just grasping at the familiar, trying to stick to what I knew best, perhaps in the hope of one day returning to serve my Emperor?

By now, it was well after sunset, and the town was abuzz with discussion about the disturbance to the usual calm.  I returned to Mayor Pleasence, who had convened the town council to discuss the disruption, and what steps were to be taken next.  I waited to be addressed beside Satella and several other residents, even a few visitors to the town, who had shown up to watch the proceedings, and once I had been called, gave them my report on what I had learned of my prey, for that is what I considered them now.  Constable Tamblyn seemed impressed with what information I had managed to collect in such a short time.  I made it clear that I would be involved in hunting them down, as I had their scent, and knew well how to track fugitives.  This caused something of a stir, and some of the less trusting of the council demanded an explanation, though the mayor quashed this, stating that now was not the time.

After some more discussion on the matter, it was decided that I, and Satella, when she volunteered to accompany me, would lead a group of volunteers from the town watch to apprehend the twins and bring them back to Grimbridge to face judgement.  As such, we would be granted a temporary position as town marshals and provided with horses and supplies for the hunt.  We were given instructions not to delve too deeply into the Muckenmyre if the twins went off the Way, for the swamp would handle them in its own way if they ventured too far out.

We were off within the hour following this.  It would be only a matter of time until the twins were found and captured; I had no doubts in myself or Satella in this.  I worried over the watch members more than myself; even though I was given the lead in this endeavor, they were now my responsibility, and that would constantly linger in my thoughts as we grew further from town.

#Lore24 – Entry #131 – Muckenmyre Month #10 – Harsh Discipline at The Bloated Floater

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

As I attempted to express the council’s lack of interest in the glassware to the merchant, there came shouts from the Bloated Floater.  Though I had not been to the dockside bar myself, I was aware of its reputation for being a place for sailors, and that it was not for the faint of heart; the owner, a dwarf by the name of Hafus Blackjaw, had something of a reputation involving his pet crocodiles, and though I was not privy to the details yet, I could certainly guess.  There were a larger than usual number of ships in the port this day, and as I would soon find out, some of the crews of these vessels were not on friendly terms. 

It was the crashing of wood, followed by a loud battle cry that drew our attention to the bar.  A moment later a dozen sailors ran out, and the sounds of broken glass, more snapping wood, and angry shouting followed.  A few more stragglers ran out, one with a bleeding head staggered out, only to be pulled back in by a muscular orcish arm.  The mayor commanded some of those gathered to seek out the constable and some of the town watch and hurried toward the bar.  I followed, though he tried to dissuade me from getting involved.  I shook my head and continued alongside him, a few other council members following us.  As kind as he had been to me, I would not allow harm to come to him if I could possibly stop it; it was my duty in a way, or at least, I considered it to be so.

Another bleeding man came crashing through a window as we approached, and the sound of battle within was intense.  The mayor called out for an immediate halt to the fight as he entered the front doors, but as I entered, I could see that there was little hope he’d even been heard, and none that anyone involved would have listened.  As Mayor Pleasence again tried to shout down the fury of two dozen drunken sailors, one of them hurled a bottle toward him. 

I reacted without thought, caught the bottle before any damage was done.  I heard one of the councilmen gasp in surprise.  In the next moment, I shoved him away from us while forcing the mayor aside as a tabletop was flung at us.  Though I felt little in the way of anger, I could see the mayor was outraged, and had already set himself to get involved.  Given the fact that I’d seen him practicing his swordplay several times now, it was hardly unexpected.  As I caught his eye, I nodded my understanding and led the way into the chaos; better to let them focus on me first.

It was my first battle in some time, and I was perhaps a bit out of practice despite the exercises I performed daily with Satella.  I only managed to disable three of the sailors during my initial attack, catching the first in a nerve cluster on his back with a strike that left him whimpering upon the floor, while I struck his companion with a kick that shattered his knee, while I caught the third with a flurry of quick strikes to disorient him, then landed a solid punch to his gut that had him doubled over on the floor.  I managed to deflect several poorly aimed strikes from fists and improvised weapons from others as I stepped back to provide cover for the mayor, caught a few blows myself, but the blows were hardly anything for me to worry about. 

The mayor was not skilled in the Arts as I am, but he was no stranger to brawling.  He dealt with several in his own way as I continued to provide cover and strike as opportunities permitted, leaving many broken bones and painful nerve strikes in my wake.  I probably took as many blows as I landed, none that were terribly serious, though, the worst being a broken rib as I stepped in front of an enraged orc and blocked a blow to the mayor’s head from the table leg he had been wielding as a club.  I then took it from him, struck a blow that knocked out several teeth, and proceeded to break both of his arms and one knee.  It has been my experience that orcs do not go down easily when angry, so one must be thorough, doubly so when they’re also drunk.

The fight had mostly left the remaining dozen or so sailors by this point; the arrival of the constable and a half dozen of the town watch helped settle their ire further as they looked upon the many disabled fighters on the bar’s floor.  Though I remained watchful, I had little doubt there would be further trouble as I gazed at them and watched them shrink away from my glare.  With the watch moving in to secure the troublemakers, I noticed that Satella had followed them, and had leaned in through the front door, smiling pleasantly as she took in the scene.  She came in, stepping over the destruction, atop one of the unlucky sailors who lay groaning on the floor, to my side. 

The mayor declined Satella’s offer to heal him, said that his wounds were not so serious, but I could tell he was nursing a broken rib of his own, and his head had a nasty gash from a broken bottle that I had not managed to intercept in time.  Feeling that I had failed in some way, knowing that allowing my charge to be wounded was not acceptable for a member of the Stellae Illustris, I nonetheless offered to heal him myself.  He was surprised that I had suggested it, as I hadn’t told him I possessed such abilities.  I assured him he would not feel the same agony as one would when healed by Yurisaya.  He agreed, and I placed one hand upon his torso, the other over his head wound, and called upon the magic I had been taught by the Stellae Illustris. 

It was indeed healing, of a sort.  I felt the skin on my brow tear open as if it was I who had been struck by the bottle, felt another two ribs break.  My vision blurred momentarily as his pain flowed into me, my breathing becoming labored, but I did not make a sound aside from a grunt.  The mayor seemed more disturbed by this than the prospect of Satella’s healing as I eased myself into a nearby seat.  The wounds would heal eventually, faster than natural healing, but it would still take a few days.

Satella had other ideas, though; she lay her hand upon my shoulder and uttered a healing prayer, and I felt the fiery healing of Yurisaya erupt through me.  I did gasp then, my broken ribs resetting themselves, my flesh feeling as though it was being flensed by a razor as it knitted together.  As the merciful agony began to fade, I thanked her, and as the mayor fixed me with a quizzical look, I assured him that I would answer any questions he had when there was time.

For now we picked ourselves up and spoke to Blackjaw about what had transpired within his bar.  He’d spent most of the brawl safely behind his bar, and was quite vocal about who was ultimately responsible for getting the sailors riled up:  “’Twas a pair of mazoku wenches, it was!  One of them red, the other blue, flirting with one man after another, using their damned demon charms on them, they did!  Wasn’t five minutes passed after they had shook their asses through my bar that the fighting started!  ‘Twas the twin twats from Tempest Tor!”