Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Sarenith 24

The sun sank on the horizon as we made our final approach, a yellow disk in a bloody red sky. The distance between the two ships had shrunk to almost nothing. The lumbering giants came together, the Wormwood circling around towards the bow to avoid the roaring guns of the Man’s Promise.

Harrigan, Peppery, Plugg, Tilly, Grok, and Quarne the surgeon soared through the air to land on the ship’s stern, starting a vicious fight with the relatively elite Rahadoumi guards to take control of the helm. By chasing the enemy away from the steering wheel, they could make maneuvering impossible and rob the Man’s Promise of its modest array of cannons. With any luck, they would also draw the strongest resistance.

My team trailed behind the team of veterans that would board near the center of the ship and break into the hold, securing the cargo and preventing any funny business while Harrigan fought on the deck. Krine would be leading that team, which included Kroop; I hoped he’d be okay.

Enough musing. We are almost in position. 

I snapped my fingers, dismissing the voidworm to ensure it wouldn’t cause problems for the attackers once they were within its remit. It had likely exhausted its tricks by now, and could go back to the Maelstrom and go about its day. With that done, I stood and addressed my team consisting of Syl, Sandara, Caulky, and Jack.

“Everyone ready?” I asked, prompting a few nods, “alright, drink up and remember the plan. We get on, we secure the lifeboats, we defend that position.”

My team each downed the flasks Syl had prepared, myself included. It was mostly grog, mixed with some seemingly random herbs and spices.

You have consumed a reflex stimulant. +2 dexterity, -2 wisdom 

Caulky has consumed a reflex stimulant 

Caulky has consumed a muscle stimulant 

Caulky has consumed an endurance stimulant

Syl has consumed a reflex stimulant

Syl has consumed a muscle stimulant 

Syl has consumed an endurance stimulant 

Syl could produce stimulants more or less at will, unlike her elixirs. Each boosted one physical stat at the cost of one corresponding mental stat; strength to intelligence, dexterity to wisdom, and constitution to charisma. That’s not how Syl would describe it, of course. Once I drank my reflex stimulant, I immediately felt twitchy and restless, bursting with energy. I’d stuck mostly to legal substances in my old life, but I’d known a few guys to dabble in cocaine. The feeling lined up with what they’d described.

Gods I hope I didn’t just start an addiction. 

The initiative announcement popped up as Jack and Sandara threw their grappling hooks, properly beginning the battle from my perspective. As I’d come to expect, once my turn came around the world slowed to a crawl. This artificial peace made it easy to pick out the four dark skinned Rahadoumi men taking aim at my team.

I learned my lesson with Sandara. One hit can be lethal, even with a health bar. Lucky me, Sandara and Jack both nailed it on the first try. Five people don’t need any more than that. Alright autopilot, we can use plan A. 

With a casual gesture, I used the innate magic of my drow heritage to create a fourty foot wide sphere of darkness around a small lead bar in my pouch. I then immediately chucked it onto the deck at the sailors’ feet; hog lob was drastically easier without the slippery oiled leather getting in the way. Climbing a rope in pitch darkness was no joke, but my team had all agreed that it was preferable to doing so under fire. Further, I’d found no rules indicating that the DC to climb a rope would go up in darkness, so Jack was probably the only person negatively impacted.

Caulky dropped her oars and took Sandara’s rope, scurrying up so quickly that she overtook Jack. She was statistically my best melee fighter, so I wanted her and Jack onboard first just in case the darkness trick didn’t work out. Syl, for her part, was working the oars to keep our relative position steady.

The monochrome sailors reacted to the darkness with a degree of panic, as I hoped. The ones who had been aiming crossbows at us still tried to take their shots from memory. Thankfully, only one of them even hit the jolly boat, the bolt thunking into the railing uncomfortably close to Syl.

I heard shouting that sounded like the start of an argument, but it was drowned out by an explosion from Harrigan’s part of the battle. I couldn’t make out details. (Perception 4+2=6) 

One of the defenders was feeling his way along the railing, and unfortunately he was getting dangerously close to Jack’s hook. If he was allowed to continue along that path, Jack would have been confronted with an armed opponent when he reached the deck. That would be a pretty massive disadvantage even if they were both equally blind, especially since Jack’s weapon of choice, a pike, was basically useless in close quarters. I summoned a long nosed hunting hound from the abyss as close to the man threatening my minion as possible. It lacked the eyes to see in the darkness, but it’s nose would serve well enough with my direction. 

While Autopilot condemned a man to be savaged by an angry dog while blind and isolated, I tried and failed to throw a grapple and Sandara threw around buffing spells. Bless was only a +1 to attack rolls, but it was +1 to attack rolls for everyone on our side of the conflict; +5% chance to hit could add up across the duration of a battle. She also, more confusingly, made a perfect clone of herself; with a snap of her fingers there were two of her.

“I’d rather not get another axe in the gut,” they both said in stereo as one of them winked at me and the other took hold of Caulky’s rope, “so I’ve brought in a volunteer to take my lumps for me.”

The next few rounds went swimmingly. I finally succeeded in latching on my own hook and the rest of the team boarded without incident. I levitated my body into the air, making it incredibly easy to pull my weightless body along the rope. Some genius among the Rahadoumi had convinced the rest to follow the railing out of the dark ball, so my team had a safe place to work from other than the inconclusive wrestling match between a sailor and a fiendish hunting hound. I took a moment to assess the situation.

Six guys here, all uninjured. They know we are coming, but it looks like they are planning to take pot shots at Peppery. Can’t have that.

The ship mage of the Wormwood was evidently quite proficient with evocation, as several small spheres of blue-white lightning were scything through the ranks of the Rahadoumi elite. Harrigan was a terror, swiping his flaming cutlass straight through anyone who approached and holding something aloft in his off hand. It appeared to be a human heart, from the condition of the ravaged corpse at his feet. (Perception 14+2=16)

Fuck. Why? Don’t answer that! It was rhetorical. Ok. So the darkness is covering one of the lifeboats. We need to secure the other one; unfortunately that’s where the sailors decided to rally. Probably thinking the same thing we are; secure the escape route. 

“Alright. There’s two groups that are our responsibility; one guy towards the bow and a group of four to starboard.” I briefed my blind team, “the one near the bow is isolated, but he has an elevated position and a crossbow. We can’t leave him alone or he’ll start punching holes in us. Jack, do you think you can jump him while we secure the boat?”

“Aye, sir,” Jack agreed with the space five feet to my left. “How do I get to him?”

I gave him directions to the railing and estimated the distance, then sent him on his merry way. Once I confirmed he was on the right track, I led the girls by the hand to the edge of the darkness. Once we were all ready, I ordered everyone to charge. Then, quite suddenly, the world blurred and went black.

You have been struck with a crossbow bolt. Critical hit! 14 damage. You have -2 hit points. You are unconscious and dying. 

Wait what no. Nonono. Besmara, that hurts!

Sandara has cast Cure Light Wounds, healing you for 8 damage. You are no longer unconscious or dying.

I took a deep breath as Sandara hauled me to my feet, the crossbow bolt in my shoulder popping out as her healing magic closed the wound. Caulky was engaged with four Rahadoumi sailors at once, and surprisingly seemed to be holding her own. She hadn’t landed any hits yet, but she also hadn’t been hit. She moved like a choreographed dancer, flawlessly predicting her four partners movements and reacting with deadly slices of her slightly curved sword.

Syl was circling around to flank them, crouched low with a dagger in each hand. She had a stern, analytical expression. I knew from our discussions that she didn’t particularly want to hurt anyone in this fight, but a loss for my team would be even worse. Summary execution was typical in Rahadoum for petty thugs attacking a rich merchant.

I stepped back into the darkness to avoid any further crossbow shots, and threw dogs into the melee to support my girls. Jack was locked in a struggle with his foe when I checked on him; he had a bloody gash going down his arm that needed treatment at some point, but his opponent was in much worse shape. I decided to have faith in him for the moment.

The normal sailors were going down at a rate of one per round thanks to Caulky; with flanking partners giving her openings, she inflicted brutal wounds with every sword stroke. Combined with her ability to dodge anything they tried to throw at her, the quartet decided to surrender two rounds in.

I kept a lookout while Syl and Sandara stabilized and tied up the wounded. Jack and I dragged them into the shadows, where they would be safely blind and restrained. The man I’d sicked a dog onto stood up halfway through the process, largely unharmed, and started moving towards the noises he heard.

Autopilot, handle him. Nonlethally. 

I glanced over at the haggard sailor and wreathed him in Fairy Fire. The magical light would not harm him directly, but was clearly visible through the darkness even to my blind compatriots. 

“Caulky.” I said conversationally, “handle that one. Nonlethally, if you can.”

She complied, rushing at the glowing man and slicing him before he even knew he was in danger. He fell on his ass, writhing in pain and bleeding black monochrome blood all over the deck until Sandara stabilized him with a cantrip.

We waited on the raised bow after that as our adrenaline slowly drained away. Syl patched up our victims while Sandara bound them together with a long length of rope. At this point I wasn’t sure if she knew how to hogtie people for recreational or professional reasons.

The sound of screams and crack of gunfire reverberated up from the hold, and we had front row seats to the slaughter at the helm. We had gone out of our way to avoid killing anyone, but the Captain had no such reservations. Harrigan went out of his way to finish them off, and as he did his wounds closed, spurring him towards greater violence.

Plugg had either turned himself into a large humanoid fish monster or given one his new coat, the coat I’d spent all day enchanting. He was less reckless than his father, but equally brutal. At his feet, one man that he’d finished off with his offhand claw had a very familiar rash forming around the wound. (Perception 19+3=22)

On my HUD, a still image of Jakes’s aboleth slime rash and a zoomed in view of this Rahadoumi officer’s injury popped up, providing a damning side by side comparison. I’d already suspected he’d been involved, but more confirmation was nice.

I didn’t have long to stew on that, as the enemy captain fell. A few of the soldiers broke off immediately, rushing towards the lifeboats.

“Look alive, boys.” I roused my team, “They’re trying to escape. Follow my lead; use the crossbows for a couple warning shots.”

Thanks to the turn based nature of combat for me and my party members, I was able to respond instantly and rush down to my bubble of darkness. Once there, I let autopilot take the lead.

Three crossbow bolts, fired by my party members on the bow, sprouted from the deck in front of the cowards’ intended escape vessel. 

“Gentlemen,” I purred from the shadows, “I ask that you surrender, that I might offer you my mercy and protection. I have the authority to ensure you are carried safely to the nearest port and released.” 

As I spoke, I ran my fingers across the edges of my darkness, causing the nearly liquid magic to swirl unsettlingly. (Far Fetched Bluff 10+10+5+5-10=20)

Captain Harrigan did the majority of the work on these poor souls. They were desperate to escape, and knew precisely how likely their survival was as a lone raft pursued by bloodthirsty pirates. They did not agree so much as they gave up, throwing down their weapons and accepted being bound in darkness for the promise of safety. 

••••••••••

An hour later, planks were fastened to allow easy passage between the two ships. Harrigan’s speech to the captured sailors and merchants was suspiciously similar to the one I heard on my first day; death, recruitment, or slavery.

“Listen here, sir!” One finely dressed man interrupted, “my cousin is on the Council of Elders! Ransom me back if you must, but if I vanish I assure you-“

He stopped short as Harrigan fired his pistol directly into the man’s forehead.

“You assure me of what?” He asked with a sneer. “That some councilor on the other side of the Eye will take an interest? Don’t make me laugh. Mister M’Dair, Master Scourge, would you be so kind as to toss this man into the drink?”

My hands shook as I stepped forward to obey. I rushed to take the man’s feet, just so there would be more distance between me and the corpse’s accusing eyes.

I need to take care of the people that surrendered to me at least. 

“Captain,” I called back once the dead fool was over the railing. “I hate to interrupt, but I’ve already explained the situation to a few new friends of mine. Might I introduce some eager new recruits?” 

For a fraction of a second, the Captain pursed his lips and I worried that I misjudged him. Thankfully, his desire for theatrics trumped his annoyance. I’d given him an excellent opportunity to juxtapose the results of defiance and compliance. (Diplomacy 20+5=25 critical success)

“Of course!” He cried, his jovial mask returning, “bring ‘em out front will ye?”

I walked up to the small band of soldiers I’d convinced to surrender, and pointed at the space before the captain.

“This is the best I can do.” I hissed, “play along unless you really want to be sold off.”

The four shamefaced soldiers walked to the front under the accusing glares of their countrymen. Once there, Harrigan shook each of their hands, asked their names, welcomed them to the crew, and promised them long and productive careers on the Wormwood.

Unfortunately, the gambit backfired. The majority of the Rahadoumi soldiers spat at the deck in turn, choosing slavery over collaboration. Their employer was dead, their Captain was dead, and most of their officers were dead. They had little to focus on except for hatred of their assailants, and the few who stood and joined the new recruits were instantly dismissed as enemies and traitors.

The civilians, like the chef and the merchant’s manservant, had less fire in their veins and agreed to transfer their employment to Harrigan in return for better treatment. The chef was even allowed to keep his job on the Man’s Promise.

I was showered with treasure for my part in the attack. Everyone in on my team received 150 gold each for taking part, and I was given a 25 gp bounty on each person killed or captured by my team as a bonus for my efforts. It totaled out to 400 gp, though I only got half up front; the rest would have to wait until the Wormwood landed in Bloodcove and sold off the booty.

My team were all grim as we ate our curry, a special treat courtesy of the newly press ganged chef. We’d managed to make the best of a bad situation by keeping fatalities to a minimum, but only Sandara seemed particularly proud of the attack itself. She, naturally, was getting wasted off of free drinks while she slurred an increasingly embellished version of our exploits.

“Syl, thanks for coming along.” I said, “I really appreciated having someone else there who cared if the other guy died or not.”

“Anytime.” She told me with a squeeze of the knee, “you big softie.”

I was about to respond when we heard a cry from the stairs; Caulky was charging towards us.

“Guys! Guys!” She called, “I made first mate! Well, it’s a temporary position, but still! We’re going to go get the Man’s Promise squibbed, and I get to hand pick some of the crew. You in?”

This smells like fate bullshit to me. Wait. First mate?

“So if you’re first mate,” Conchobar said, “then who’ll be captain?”

“Oh, yeah.” She replied, “Plugg, obviously.”