GOD GAMES

Honestly, human flesh as a Fenrimorph tastes pretty good. Except the blood. The high iron content kinda takes away the enjoyment, though.

With blood still dripping over my mouth, I stare at the [Pirates] just to make sure they have my attention. Which I think they do on account of the massive Phytonid bedecked in shiny golden chests going completely ignored.

I take another bite, this time of the man's face. This causes over a hundred [Pirates] to cringe in fear. Following that, I raise the skull in my hand. My muscles flex and I crush it between my claws.

I allow brainmatter to seep between my fingers, leaking ever so slowly.

Unfortunately, such a sight causes a [Pirate] to panic. He turns to run, and pauses. I can only imagine his eyes widening. His hand rises up, mouth opens.

SHIT!

Just as he creams, I roar, drowning out his voice for the moment. My knees bend and I rush the [Pirates].

They scream, they yell, they panic, and several crossbow bolts slam into my flesh. I reach the first [Pirate] and rip him through the stomach, carefully making sure to avoid his lungs. He screams and the panic ensues. Many pirates turn and run, few acknowledging Nepenthes while she slowly slithers up the stone. None give chase as I slaughter another two pirates. One I punch through his skull and another I claw out his neck.

Unfortunately, my monstrous appearance and brutality has created something of a truce between all the [Pirates]. No longer do they fight amongst themselves. Now, it’s all the pirates against me. Spears, cutlasses, bolts, and all manner of weapons find my flesh. As skilled as I am, being surrounded by over a hundred [Pirates] is not a winnable position.

Just as Nepenthes slithers on the timbergroves deck, I immediately jump towards the Timbergroves plank while ramming through several [Pirates]. On arrival, I slam my fist on the wood, shattering the only safe way to get aboard. Just as the [Pirates] are ready to rush and surround me, my knees bend, the ground cracks, and I hop up on Timbergroves deck.

______________________________________________________________

Nepenthes slithers onto the ships deck where two humans wait warily. Considering their weapons are pointed away from her, she can only conclude they are Boris and Irmgard.

“Cut all the ropes!” Myers orders.

Boris and Irmgard rush to her. One draws a cutlass, the other a dagger. It takes her a great deal of will to not drop the throne and attack them. She allows them to rush her, and indeed, she hears the sounds of cutting. Not a moment later, all the weight falls off of her, freeing her movement.

“Nepenthes, you can drop the throne. Irmgard, are there pirates inside the ship?” Myers asks.

The Phytonid drops the metal sitting instrument and then glances at Irmgard.

The female human shakes her head. “No, we took care of them.”

“Good.” He looks at the child peeking out of the chest. “Clay, go inside the Timbergrove and find somewhere to hide. The rest of us are going to deal with the pirates until Quasi returns.”

The sound of wood shattering turns all eyes as the pieces of the boarding plank crash down into the void. Not a moment later, Quasi, covered in numerous wounds and sporting nearly a dozen bolts crashes on the deck.

__________________________________________________________

The deck of the timbergrove is smothered in corpses, blood, and over a dozen [pirates] looking at me. They are terrified, but so much as to panic. One [Pirate] raises a hand crossbow in my direction. I preemptively raise my gauntlets to block. Instead, I hear the sound of three gunshots. The [Pirate] with the crossbow and two others near him fall dead, all with a bullet in their noggin. Not a moment later and Nepenthes skewers two more.

The rest of my crew rush in behind her, but are too slow as Nepenthes executes three more [Pirates].

Not wanting to be outdone, I join in on the onslaught.

As the last skull crumbles under my fist, I immediately transform into a cat.

“Myers, we need to leave. Take us out of here.”

The old man grimaces. He surveys the blood-smothered deck before glancing at the [Pirate] ships fighting in the distance. “The moment we leave, we’ll be chased by all the ships. We’re not fast enough to get away.”

“Shit.” I follow his gaze. Indeed, there are too many ships to fight off. The moment we leave, we’ll probably be chased.

As I glance further up, a plan quickly comes to mind.

“Can we escape above the clouds?”

“No, not with the Timbergrove. The ship is too light to handle those winds without an active helmsman. We’d be blown off course immediately.”

“What if I helmed it?” I ask.

“It’s a stormcloud. Anyone not inside the ship is going to have to deal with constant electricity. I doubt a Fenrimorph can survive for long.”

Not what I had in mind.

“It’s fine. I’ve got a plan. Just get us into the clouds.”

Me and Myers share a long look, then he turns towards the helm. “Fine. You better not get us killed.”

______________________________________________________

[Pirate Captain] Gordon Rollo grins to the sound of cannons firing from both sides of the Dirigentes. The Dirigentes is a runed Heavy-Destroyer with a second cannon deck and five masts. It is a ship designed for combating multiple vessels and unloading enough firepower to overwhelm hulls in a single volley. Four ships have already been destroyed and another three have retreated.

“[Captain],” His [First Mate] calls to him. Gordon glances down at his brother Brevis Rollo. A half brother, but one he trusts with his life. “What is it?” he asks.

Brevis points at the island filled with treasure. A frigate called the Timbergrove just departed and is quickly ascending .

Frowning, Gordon reaches into his coat and retrieves a spyglass. He extends it towards the ship. When he looks through it, he quickly notes several golden chests on the ship's deck.

He grins. Placing his hand on the Dirigentes crystal, the ship lurches forward. “Good call Brevis!” he yells. “That ship has what we’re after.”

Not only him, but every single vessel ceases fighting. They all turn to chase the Timbergrove.

To Gordon’s surprise, the Timbergrove is slower than expected. Much slower for a frigate.

Must be a lot of treasure to be slowed to only ten knots.

As the faster ships get closer and closer to the Timbergrove, a frown starts to form on Gordon’s face. The Timbergrove is still ascending, far higher than the optimal line to maximize speed.

Then he realizes it.

“Cheeky shits,” he curses. “Brevis, get me my storm-coat.”

Knowing the Timbergroves plan, he directs the Dirignetes to ascend after it.

His brother returns with the storm coat and he quickly puts it on. The storm-coat is a rare runed clothing that protects the wearer from electricity.

“Now get inside. Tell the crew to stay away from the windows.”

With the Timbergrove nearing the storm clouds, all of the [Pirate] vessels give up the chase. A few give departing shots, but the angle and wind make the projectiles miss.

A minute passes, and the Timbergrove disappears into the storm. Gordon takes a breath. Then the Dirignetes does the same.

________________________________________________________________

The moment I enter the stormcloud, my fur quickly expands on account of all the charged air. I grit my teeth as the feeling of being lightly tased travels through my body. This effect lasts for several seconds before disappearing as soon as my furr changes to a bright yellow.

I breathe out in relief. “Thank god that worked.”

My relief is short lived as violent winds buffet the Timbergrove and veer it off course.

Right. Myers warned me of this.

Tightening all four paws around Timbergroves core, I direct the ship back to ascending.

Minutes pass as lightning violently bombards the ship's hull. When the lightning is about to strike me, my furr explodes in a burst of light that causes the bolt to divert to the side.

After watching the phenomena happen several times, I come to the realization that the lights are targeted and extremely concentrated.

“I’M FIRIN LAZERS!” I scream happily.

Another burst of light from my fur and another bolt redirects a meter away from my body.

Eventually, all fun must come to an end. The Timbergrove ascends beyond the storm-clouds to the bright sky above.

With far more light now, my yellow fur glistens while electricity dances across my body.

“Now, if only I was a mouse,” I say with a grin.

Having ascended the clouds, the rest of my crew minus Clay warily exit to the deck. They look to the bright sky above and the dark storm clouds below. Then Boriss sees me. “Comrade fluffy, you are very yellow. Is new look, Yes?”

I snort at the Russian.

“If only. I wouldn’t mind shooting lasers at lightning all the time.”

“Lasers?” Cillian walks up.

Before I can explain, a Destroyer class ship bursts out of the storm clouds like a whale surfacing above the ocean.

“Oh come on! This was supposed to be an epic escape,” I whine.

I glare at the offending ship.

Dirigentes (Five-Mast Cored Heavy-Destroyer)

Max Speed: 13 knots

Construction: Wood

Modifications: Thick Hull, Double Gundeck, Armored Bulkheads

Hull Integrity: 4073/4314

The very armored and armed offending ship.

“Fuck. It’s cored and it’s faster than us.”

Focusing my glare, I find the leader at the helm.

Gordon Rollo: Level 49 [Pirate Captain]

Next to the leader is another guy that looks related and is just as dangerous.

Brevis Rollo: Level 49 [Pirate Subcaptain]

“Myers, what’s a [Pirate Subcaptain]?”

Like me, Myers is also analyzing the incoming vessel. He frowns before stroking his beard at my question. “That's an advanced [First Mate] class. What level is it?”

“They’re both forty nine. Runed up too, though I can’t tell the quality from here.”

“Very high quality,” Myers says. “Surpassing level forty-nine is difficult. Most [Captains] never exceed that level. Instead, they amass wealth and experience before they die or retire.

I smile. “All I hear is that they’re going to want to board us with the expectation that our combat ability is lacking.”

Nepenthes rises up threateningly. “I will reap the stems of those expectations and devour the nectar coursing through them,” she exclaims. “From their corpses, we will germinate greater strength until our cultivation will deter the weak and cowardly!”

Every eye turns to the bloodthirsty Phytonid. The woman is swaying like a praying mantis preparing to strike. Her jaw is slightly open and claws extended for ripping, tearing, and grasping.

Boriss nods understandably. “Like Russian mother with wolf. You kill wolf. Bury wolf in garden. Then grow many potato.”

Nepenthes turns to Boriss. “Your Matriarch is wise. Animals are good fertilizers for groves.”

“Da. Mother kill many wolf. They are big pest that want steal bear jerky.”

“Your spawner sounds like a true huntress of prey. Does she hunt with range or closer?”

“She fight wolf with cleaver. Sometime she throw Grena-”

“Talk Later.” I interrupt the very odd bonding session. “We’ve got [Pirates] to kill.”

“They won’t fight.” The old man raises a finger at the Dirigentes.

“What?” Looking at the ship, I note that all the portholes are opening to reveal numerous cannons.

“Are they crazy?” Cillian asks. “If they destroy our ship, they lose all the treasure. Why don’t they just board.”

“Because the [Captain’s] not an idiot.” Myers pipes up. “The Timbergrove was surrounded by several pirate ships on the island and then escaped with treasure. Escaping from such a situation shows competence. The [Captain] isn’t going to take risks, nor does he need to. He’s going to pound our ship until our hull integrity is gone. Then he’ll blast the Timbergrove with grapeshot until most of the crew is dead. Only then will he board with overwhelming numbers.”

Yea, that sounds competent. You wouldn’t get to such a level if you’re taking risks.

“Can we shoot back?” Emma asks.

“No,” I answered. “They have more cannons and are faster.”

Emma extends her arm towards the massive wooden siege engine. “Not with cannons, but with the ballista. I looked into the runed bolts and I think we could do some real damage if we shoot the explosive ones.”

I look to Myers, but the old man is already grimacing. “Bolts are too slow to hit ships at range. Any [Captain] worth their ship will easily dodge the projectiles.”

“What? We can't use the ballistae against other ships?” I ask in surprise.

The old man raises an eyebrow. “No. Ballistae are designed to siege islands, not ships.”

Oh, hell no. I need to siege ships, not fucking islands. What's the point of the ballista then?

Irmgard sighs. She then gives me an annoyed look. “You’re not going to get that ship.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes you were. You don’t act like you’re back to the wall.” She calls me out. “You clearly have a plan, but that plan doesn't involve stealing a destroyer, so you’re hoping one of us gives you an idea.”

I pout as everyone gives me the look.

“Fiiiineee. I’ll handle it.”

__________________________________________________________

“[Captain], cannons are primed and the crew is awaiting your orders.”

Gordon nods to his brother.

“Good. We’re almost in optimal range. Did you tell them to aim for the hull? I don’t want any treasure getting blasted off the deck.”

“I did.”

“Then we’re rea-” Gordon removes his hand from the crystal as he feels a piercing pain. When he looks at the crystal, a black one-eyed bird is perched on the crystal.

“What is-”

The bird caws once. Then all hell breaks loose as every sail shifts. Dirigentes plunges forward, tripping him. By the time he regains his footing, the ship is angled by forty degrees and is descending rapidly. Just before the ship plunges back into the storm clouds, the black bird salutes a wing and then takes flight.

“Fucking shit.” He curses. With his coat still protecting him, he rushes to the crystal. The ship lurches upward just as fast as it descended. When he ascends above the clouds, he finds that his brother is shaking on the deck from the cloud. Considering the cannon portholes were left open, his cannon team is experiencing the same effect.

Looking about, he finds the bird flying back to the Timbergrove. He watches it for a long moment before finally chuckling.

“Bested by a bird.” He shakes his head. “Fine, take the win.”

With a flex of his mana, he orders the Dirigentes to slow to a stop.