Seaborn
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94. Tempest
🕑 Added 2023-05-04 06:08:15 +0000 UTC(Name Credit to H. Scott)
Memories are different from reality. Even cherished memories are not always how something really happened. Nightmares are known for twisting experience.
Redmund was not how I remembered him.
For a moment I questioned whether I’d done something wrong in creating his body, but I hadn’t sculpted the form, only provided the mana for Redmund. This was Redmund, and as my eyes took him in the pictures from my nightmares and the distortions in my memory were supplanted.
I had the little fella back!
“You look different,” he said, echoing my own thoughts. Only I really had changed since he’d last seen me. I rubbed my gaunt face and easily brought to mind the image I saw in the mirror when I shaved in the morning.
“He looks uglier, is what ya’ mean,” Gnar said easily, drifting into our conversation perpendicularly, like he was lounging on a couch while we stood. Redmund squeaked a bit as he gasped a big breath and held it at the sight of the massive orc. Gnar pretended not to see. “Of course, everyone goes around on tiptoes about saying it because he’s the chief boss and all. I think it’s less cruel to just tell him to his face.”
My bemusement at Gnar’s introduction warred with my irritation that he was interrupting a somber reunion, but my good humor won. Of all the things I’d imagined I’d say, the ways that I’d break the news to Redmund of what had happened, what I’d done and who I’d become … none of them felt right in the moment. Redmund was newly returned, lost and confused. He didn’t need somber.
As a matter of fact, I didn’t need it either. This was an amazing moment.
“I seem to recall not five minutes having passed after I restored my Charisma that I had a host of people rubbing in the fact my looks remained?”
“Ah, we were still giving it to you easy. We’d said you were ugly. The truth was a kraken couldn’t’ve loved that face of yours.”
Redmund looked back and forth between me and Gnar as we bantered, and his fright at seeing the ‘monster orc’ lessened with a speed unique to children. “You’re not that ugly!” he piped up in my defense.
“Thanks kid,” I said dryly.
“So,” Gnar said, “We claiming this ship or what?”
“Would you give me a minute?” I said with mock impatience. “I just did something that’s been on my heart for over a year, you can furl your sails for another two minutes.”
“But,” Gnar gestured animatedly. “Special ship!”
“Go count some barnacles or something.”
He winked as he swam to the deck below, probably to inventory the wealth of weapons and armor there. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled charades, we put on an act in front of his fighters often enough, but I never realized he was good with human children. I thought orcs treated their juveniles much differently, yet Redmund was much more at ease than he’d been a minute ago.
Maybe Gnar was managing me more than Redmund. I decided not to follow that line of thought too far.
I untethered myself and floated in front of Redmund. “You’re going to love the way your swimming skill is going to jump through the roof in the next weeks.”
His eyes widened again, no matter that he’d just seen Gnar swimming around. He breathed deliberately, even holding his fingers up to his mouth to feel the water passing through them. “How am I doing this?”
“What’s the last thing you remember, Redmund?”
He wrinkled his brow in thought. “Hiding from the pirates. Over … there.” He pointed to where a section of deck had broken into shrapnel.
“I’m going to tell you a story,” I said. “It starts the same night as the pirate attack.”
I gave him my story. Edited for content and abridged quite a bit, but I told him how I’d fought the pirates, and what that had led to. How I’d met Davy Jones and made a deal, that the nations hadn’t liked my power and I’d fought back. Without going into details, I told him I’d made mistakes in fighting back, doing bad things. I told him I’d had a fight with Davy Jones and the ocean had sent us our separate ways, Jones to the depths and me to the surface. I finally wrapped it up with the explanation I’d come back to the Wind Runner, hoping to find him. Hoping to ask him to join my crew.
He was enthralled by my story and bounced back from the negative aspects with the naivety of youth. He sensed my seriousness with the question and pretended at the end to put a lot of thought into it before saying “yes!”
It made my heart smile. I didn’t try to press him on the seriousness of the choice – I would be willing to reevaluate with him as he matured and understood the full ramifications of his choice; the options of being stuck with my crew or returning to death.
“So, I’ve been dead?”
“Yes.”
“And you brought me back?”
“Yep.”
“Wow!” he said, drawing out the word. “So I was dead for like, over a year?”
“Yeah.”
“Did my family miss me?”
Oof, right in the emotions, kid. “I haven’t been able to talk with your parents. I’ve heard your uncle missed you a whole lot.”
“Uncle Michaels? He got scary when he took command of the ship. I’m glad he wasn’t upset with me.”
“He had to be commanding when he was Captain of the ship, I imagine that was different than the visiting uncle you were used to. Fair warning: I have to be commanding too.”
“Because you’re a Captain now,” he said, not a question. “Didn’t you want to be a wanderer?”
“I still am a wanderer – I just take people with me and have goals too.”
His face wrinkled a bit as if he couldn’t decide whether that made no sense or was incredibly wise.
“And you’re going to raise uncle’s ship?”
“That’s right, I’ve got this hulk outside – huge thing – but she’s an ugly ship. The Wind Runner might have been old but she’s special!”
He nodded exuberantly. “Uncle will be glad you’ve brought her back!”
Umm … he probably wouldn’t. I’d deal with that conversation later. “Want to see me claim it?”
“Yes!”
After the tension and relief of recruiting Redmund, claiming the old galleon seemed almost businesslike. I navigated the prompts, my personal mana stretched out into the surrounding waters and sucked all the ambient mana into the ship to fuel the conversion.
I’d been Captain of this ship before. I was in command once again.
Tempest (Cursed)
Ship Class Galleon
Captain Seaborn
Ship Durability 45,000/60,000
Ship level 2
Cursed Status: Escort
Mentorship
Deckplate Promotion
Last Stand
Ship alterations:
Speed
Maneuverability
Handling
Durability
Modifications:
Repairs
Effects
The Wind Runner was now the Tempest!
Before I could delve into the details of the ship’s interface, a ululating cry came from below us. I motioned for Redmund to follow and quickly went below. That wasn’t a warcry, but a celebratory vocalization Gnar and the other orcs did on occasion – usually when they’d had a few cups of grog.
I found Gnar inventorying the treasure, as I’d anticipated. It had been in a bit of a mess: some crates were fastened down just as securely as they been when we set sail, but most had shifted either due to my meddling or the ship’s sinking, and many were damaged by the blast I’d initiated. My lieutenant had started organizing the booty around the deck. The progress he made showed me he hadn’t been overjoyed simply by the haul. At my questioning look he proffered a sword.
It was mastercraft quality, like most of the items here. The damage it inflicted was enough to drain a normal person’s constitution terrifyingly fast – if the enchanted sharpened edge didn’t cut them open on the first blow. I would have been shocked if I hadn’t seen this before and been shocked then.
Hang on, there was something else here. I’d spoken too soon, and was shocked after all!
“When you claimed the ship,” Gnar said.
“It incorporated these as its arsenal.” I finished. That had happened before – the whip from the Death’s Consort was a tool so fiendish I kept it stored in my dimensional bag at all times. That had been a normal whip, though, the power had come from the story behind it when it received its curse. These weapons … these were powerful and part of a story.
“The armor, it’s all heavy?”
“Six suits of the finest heavy armor I’ve ever seen!”
“Come up with a list of names for candidates; these weapons and armor will each have a group trained to wear and use them. We’ll discuss the list later.” In private. “Anything besides the suits and steel?”
“Sure is,” he said, and moved to a small opened crate that had been set aside. He casually dipped his hand in when he brought it up the greatest wealth I’d ever seen hung from his calloused fingers.
Belt of Spell Stealing: when impacted by a spell’s effects, stores the spell in an open slot indefinitely. Storage reaction can be slightly modified. Stored spells can be cast by wearer by supplying requisite mana, regardless of knowledge level or affinity.
Spell slots: 0/2
“This …” I muttered. The belt was made of mithril rings, each only slightly bigger than a pinhead. The rings were linked together in a band roughly an inch wide. On each side of the belt was what looked like a brick of mithril covered in runic enchantments, but which I guessed were protective cases for some inner workings that enabled such a feat.
There were tales of beasts and wizards that could pluck a spell from a caster before they finished casting it – I didn’t doubt those were true. I would have doubted hearing about this effect.
When impacted by a spell’s effect. In theory, if someone struck me with lightning now, the lightning would just … disappear into the belt. I’d be fine. I could then have lightning ready to instantly cast back just by providing the mana! The utility was insane!
There would be a bottleneck, of course. Truly high level spells weren’t just restricted by knowledge of the spell but the capability of casting it with their mana pool – humans were rather restricted in how large our pool was. I also had to figure out if someone tried to cast a healing spell on me whether the belt would intercept it, and if there was any sort of cooldown after activation …
“Looks like mithril,” Gnar said casually, handing it to me. “Gift fit for a king, guess a Captain will have to do.”
I took it woodenly, trying to feign the same sense of casualness as Gnar. I was unique among Captains in that I had ultimate authority over my crew in a way no others did, but flaunting such wealth before my men was still unwise. It could still inspire greed and divisiveness, things I did not need for crew morale.
“I guess I can find a use for it,” I said.
Understatement of the year.
“Do kings normally send stuff like this when they’re shipping their spawn off to be married?” Gnar asked.
“They were trying to recruit them into a war, but honestly I’m with you. Hali would have to educate us dirt poor folks on what royalty do.”
“‘Dirt poor?’ Since when did you lack money for anything? We started dropping chests of gold and silver in the ocean as emergency caches!”
“Since I’ve had money, people to take it have been in short supply.” I sniped back. “I hardly count as an expert on the power dynamics of rich people.”
“You’re rich?” Redmund squeaked, staring partly at the treasure around him but also at the orcs and human that Gnar had brought to defend me.
A part of me wanted to deflect, like having coin was a betrayal of the Domenic Redmund had known. I denied that part of me and truthfully said ‘yes’.
His response was naturally ‘wow’.
He was still a kid, and it was so great to have him back.
We had prepped the Internment in advance for transfer of supplies and equipment to the Tempest. In most respects, the hulk had far more than the galleon needed, and we’d be leaving things behind. Conducting the move still took time, even as an all-hands evolution.
Some had grown sentimentally attached to the brutish ship. Rationally, I could understand: the ship’s perks had saved lives, preventing us from being crushed by a kraken right after claiming it. They didn’t have to handle its unwieldiness, though, or plot course corrections because of how much she drifted or calculate how much sooner we could have crossed an expanse without her slowing us down.
I’d miss the defensive perks she had, sure, but I was willing to trade them. Investing XP into restoring durability was a trap anyway.
We didn’t forget that we were in the dark depths. Old monsters could be found here long before the ocean became more dangerous. Our intent was to load all we needed on the Tempest and ascend to shallow water to finish refitting her. That would also minimize my time in Jones’ domain, and I wasn’t comfortable knowing it cost me an incursion of his own. I oversaw the transfer aboard the Tempest while Jack stood at the helm of the Raven with Sadeo and his artillerists armed and ready.
Preparations were great.
Nothing could be as motivating as danger.
I first felt a presence encroaching on my Domain, similar to when I’d encountered the sea dragon. Since I was on the alert for anything, I gave the signal and everyone dropped what they were doing to take defensive stances, eyes peering into the gloom for the distance our eyes would let us see.
The rival domain didn’t crush mine underfoot. It wavered and I was able to struggle against it, pushing back like a youth wrapped in heavy blankets. It gave me hope that whatever it was wasn’t as overwhelming as things down here could be.
It approached, then moved around us at a distance outside of sight. I dared hope that it would move past us, but it began to circle, its pattern bringing it closer to us with each pass.
“Steady,” I cautioned everyone. Crew readied skills, spells, or artillery by their specialization.
As usual in the darkness, I saw it in my Domain before anyone else’s vision could. A draconic head nudged its way into my sphere, making my blood freeze for several moments as it was followed by a long, muscular neck.
A long, long neck.
I only realized that I wasn’t looking at a true dragon when the ‘tail’ appeared without any other appendages appearing along the creatures’ length.
I couldn’t be truly relieved because I had no idea what this creature was. At the end of its body, being dragged through the water, was another head – a mirrored twin to the leading head.
Analyzing it returned only questions marks. I warned those around me what to expect as it continued to circle and draw closer. It had a length capable of wrapping around the ship several times with a thicker girth than a Titanoboa. I wondered if the creature might be blind and sensing us through other means; but it moved steadily and its eyes seemed to be darting around which didn’t seem normal for creatures that couldn’t process visual signs.
“It’s disoriented,” Rhistel said, approaching my side. “Extremely intelligent from what I can sense, but confused.”
“Can you communicate with it? Deter it?”
The elf looked pensive. “I don’t …”
Without waring or apparent cause the two-headed serpent reversed direction, startling us all. It must have had some skill or magic involved, because it went the opposite direction without any effort or change in its previous speed. I heard Sadeo cursing from below as he cajoled his teams to continue tracking it with their ballistae.
“It’s ignoring me.” Rhistel said. “I’m … I’m like a child and it’s looking for an adult?”
“It’s getting closer with every pass,” Gnar said. “Time to run or open fire.”
“We run.” I said. Putting my magic where my mouth was, I began to have the Raven and Tempest ascend towards the surface.
Like a striking snake, the serpent broke from its pattern and darted between the two vessels, one head focusing on each, scanning the decks. It held off attacking us and we did the same, though one marine had to stifle the skill he’d been about to unleash.
It made eye contact with me.
Then it spoke!
“You … you are he!”
I was so flabbergasted that I only realized in passing that I was hearing the words telepathically. I’d encountered many creatures of supreme intelligence, but it was the first time I’d ever have one speak to me!
I gradually put together what it said with what Rhistel had. “You were looking for me? Why?”
It growled, a frustrated sound. “I am old … yet I am new. Why? You have some dominion in these seas, but not here. You can tell me: what happened? What am I?”
“You are young and old? Can you tell me when …”
“Tell me why I am this way!” the creature insisted. Its other head swung around to focus on me as well.
“Domenic,” Rhistel warned.
“You’ve been impacted by the magic of the ocean,” I said quickly. “You’ve gained strength, intelligence …” Maybe even a head.
For all that I was trying to tell the creature what it wanted to know, the situation devolved faster than I predicted. The serpent’s body snapped taut like its two heads were pulling it in different directions. One head began inhaling, the other breathing out a cloud of water.
The cloud turned into a jet, which then began to thrash around. Combatants took cover behind shields, which if they weren’t anchored by a special skill were send sprawling. The pressure from the jet scored the wood of the hull and would have done a number on the sails and rigging if we’d already setup those.
It was a wild, directionless attack. If the creature had been focused there would have been casualties.
“Explaaaaaiiiiiiinnn!” it wailed in my head, less a word and more a concept of needing answers.
Sadeo opened fire. Explosive bolts blew out chunks of flesh and scales and poison caused areas to turn necrotic. It pulled another sudden momentum shift as its water jet attack ended. The head that had been spewing sank down while the other rose up.
Its wounds looked superficial. It looked angry.
“Hold fast!” I bellowed. I’d prepared a few spells while it thrashed but mostly I’d opened my ship’s interface and made sure I had enough points invested in the right areas for a speedy ascension.
I complained about the Internment, but I’d gotten used to her. The speed of the Tempest rising was thrilling even in the midst of pursuit.
The serpent wasn’t going to let us go that easily and it was still much faster than we were. Sadeo was making it dodge every shot out of caution after an explosive bolt to the skull left it stunned for a few seconds.
I was preparing how to deal with it when it inevitably caught and began encircling us. I was interrupted by a howling warcry and two forms surging past, clad head-to-toe in the masterwork heavy armor from the hold.
One of them was Gnar.
I was about to curse them for thrice-braindead idiots when I saw the heavy line unspooling behind them.
Gnar and I had discussed armor as part of our tactics. Mobility was our key feature in water – particularly given our high resistances to most forms of damage. In the water, light armor was burdensome but manageable for anyone with a swimming skill of 5. Medium armor could work with a swimming skill of around 15.
People in heavy armor still sank. Not even I had the skills to manage it.
For us, sinking turned from a death sentence into an inconvenience as you stared at the action above you and disarmed to return to it. Unless you were fleeing a giant monster, in which case it would turn back into a death sentence.
Gnar and one other idiot I couldn’t recognize under the armor had geared up and were trusting in lifelines of all things to keep them from being lost to the darkness below.
And amazingly – it worked. At least for a little bit, the two highly protected warriors made a nuisance of themselves grabbing onto the creature, punching and cutting at its eyes, nostrils, and mouth. They managed to avoid getting bitten in half, but their armor accumulated several scratches and gouges in the process.
They were ultimately thwarted by the creature. It brought its other head up and around to pick Gnar’s accomplice off. After its teeth failed to crumple his chestplate, it spat him out with a gush of water that sent him tumbling to the end of his lifeline which snapped taut and pulled his momentum into an arc like the swinging I did with my water whips.
Gnar was then facing two heads alone, and I imagined he was wondering like I was whether his armor would hold up to each head ripping him in a different direction.
I doubted it, so we got him out of there. I yelled ‘heave!’ and all his warband pulled his lifeline hard enough to lift him – armor and all – like a minnow to a starving sailor. A pair of swimmers were helping redirect to other orc to land on the deck – his momentum had carried him under the keel and up the other side, if we weren’t ascending it probably would have spun him all the way around the ship.
As soon as Gnar was clear, I deployed the trap I’d pulled from my bag. It was made with help from Mouse’s alchemy; a rather normal net coated in a potent solution. The serpent had resumed chasing with one-head leading and that head didn’t even see the net as it ran into it. It probably didn’t even feel it as it tightened around its head.
It did feel it after a few seconds of contact. Then it got worse.
When mouse had pitched the idea – through Drese – of using an irritant I’d been underwhelmed but had heard them out because Mouse had brought results before. They’d managed to convince me: when Mouse said ‘irritant’ he meant ‘drive wildly mad’. Even if the serpent had some resistance it still caused it pain and distraction as it tried to remove it. This let us safely recover our heavily armored comrades and let Sadeo and company unleash havoc. I activated the Raven’s damage perks to increase the effectiveness of their strikes, gambling it would be effective enough to keep it from inflicting the greater damage on us.
It unleashed an angry cry below us with an echo of its telepathic demands, but we crossed from the depths of Jones’ domain to mine without it following us.
As I heaved a sigh of relief I looked around and saw Redmund peaking over the side with the rest of us. Rather than get angry that he wasn’t safely below deck, I gave him a wan smile.
“That’s pretty much our life at this point.”
Author's Note:
We own a house now. That's cool!
We have a house payment now. That's ... less cool.
I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, so I'll try and get it to y'all in a reasonable timeframe.
Comments
Red Bombadil
It was inspired! You deserve the credit!
H. Scott
Hey, I know that guy! Glad you liked the suggestion my friend!
Brian Oles
wow i thought you had died and we would never get more of this story
