I can't help it, fire's just that fun.
Thirty-Eight of Spring, 516 AV
Days had passed, memories had blurred, and drinks were just for the sake of the drink now. The captain had found a new first mate among the men on board, and there was a new sense of dignity among the crew. Wind kept the sailors in good faith on the journey, Precious still rocked smooth on the ocean waves, and Theo still kept his sword arm strong, only now he practiced in daylight.
But now the time had come.
The crew had slept for a week with their minds unhindered by the nuit’s plans, but for the past three days the anxiety was thick in the air. The crow's nest had been reporting sightings of a ship trailing Precious at low tide. Just the night before this day she was spotted trailing in the ripples of Precious’ wake. Novenam said it wasn’t worth trying to outrun the other ship as it had clearly been outpacing them. Theo could not identify the body of the ship, but the opposition’s lighter design was clearly playing a factor. It seemed obvious to Theo, and others thought similarly but said not a word: They weren’t trying to catch up, they were waiting.
“Half-sail!” Novenam shouted, observing his newly inspired crew work hard on the lines to increase his steering. The rest of the men tightened their grips on their blades: Everyone on board Precious wanted a piece of Brayden’s killers, much like the nuits wanted the entirety of them.
“Slow,” Theo grabbed the captain’s shoulder, seeing he was about to issue his commands. “We’d do best not to tip them off to our intentions. With any luck, we can lure them into a false sense of security.”
Novenam glanced at Theo and then back to his men. He had become colder since learning of his son’s fate. However, Theo saw the seeming disregard Novenam showed had earned him a sense of respect, but young Theo knew better. Novenam was hurt: all men had their own way.
“Ease your way to port.” Novenam bellowed.
Precious began to slowly turn her way around. Syna shined down in Theo’s eyes as he looked up at the sails. A quick blinding made Theo happy for his senses. For a moment the atmosphere overtook him: the cold, clean salt of the sea, the unyielding blue in the sky, and the calming sound of ocean were all there was; that was before they were drowned by the toils of man.
“You have anything to say to my men?” Novenam snapped. ”They’re no swordsman. I think you learned that from Enermis.” Novenam nudged Theo, moving his attention to Stumpy. Theo had found him, but his shortened arm was all he could gaze on. There was pity and humor in Theo’s gut at the same moment as he looked at the sailor’s stump. In his mind there was nothing else Theo could have done, but he still felt sorry for not exploring another option. Still, it was not sitting well with him how others were taking to calling him Stumpy now. Enermis had fought bravely when he knew Theo was the superior sword. Theo admired him for that. That was more than he could say about most others on board.
“Aye, but they do have swords, Captain. That’ll be all they need, you just play along, and let me do the talking when needed. I’ll get these guys sweet as virgin juice, and deliver them sick justice.” Theo predicted.
Theo had not proven himself at the helm yet, but cunning might suffice for the coming trial. He knew he well had the numbers to win this fight, but Precious hadn’t the numbers to win a fight and make it to shore. Theo was not a lying man, not even in battle, and he knew he wasn’t a sailor either. We will have to play the nuits, but their rotting asses are privy to tricks. Still, there must be a way.
Days had passed, memories had blurred, and drinks were just for the sake of the drink now. The captain had found a new first mate among the men on board, and there was a new sense of dignity among the crew. Wind kept the sailors in good faith on the journey, Precious still rocked smooth on the ocean waves, and Theo still kept his sword arm strong, only now he practiced in daylight.
But now the time had come.
The crew had slept for a week with their minds unhindered by the nuit’s plans, but for the past three days the anxiety was thick in the air. The crow's nest had been reporting sightings of a ship trailing Precious at low tide. Just the night before this day she was spotted trailing in the ripples of Precious’ wake. Novenam said it wasn’t worth trying to outrun the other ship as it had clearly been outpacing them. Theo could not identify the body of the ship, but the opposition’s lighter design was clearly playing a factor. It seemed obvious to Theo, and others thought similarly but said not a word: They weren’t trying to catch up, they were waiting.
“Half-sail!” Novenam shouted, observing his newly inspired crew work hard on the lines to increase his steering. The rest of the men tightened their grips on their blades: Everyone on board Precious wanted a piece of Brayden’s killers, much like the nuits wanted the entirety of them.
“Slow,” Theo grabbed the captain’s shoulder, seeing he was about to issue his commands. “We’d do best not to tip them off to our intentions. With any luck, we can lure them into a false sense of security.”
Novenam glanced at Theo and then back to his men. He had become colder since learning of his son’s fate. However, Theo saw the seeming disregard Novenam showed had earned him a sense of respect, but young Theo knew better. Novenam was hurt: all men had their own way.
“Ease your way to port.” Novenam bellowed.
Precious began to slowly turn her way around. Syna shined down in Theo’s eyes as he looked up at the sails. A quick blinding made Theo happy for his senses. For a moment the atmosphere overtook him: the cold, clean salt of the sea, the unyielding blue in the sky, and the calming sound of ocean were all there was; that was before they were drowned by the toils of man.
“You have anything to say to my men?” Novenam snapped. ”They’re no swordsman. I think you learned that from Enermis.” Novenam nudged Theo, moving his attention to Stumpy. Theo had found him, but his shortened arm was all he could gaze on. There was pity and humor in Theo’s gut at the same moment as he looked at the sailor’s stump. In his mind there was nothing else Theo could have done, but he still felt sorry for not exploring another option. Still, it was not sitting well with him how others were taking to calling him Stumpy now. Enermis had fought bravely when he knew Theo was the superior sword. Theo admired him for that. That was more than he could say about most others on board.
“Aye, but they do have swords, Captain. That’ll be all they need, you just play along, and let me do the talking when needed. I’ll get these guys sweet as virgin juice, and deliver them sick justice.” Theo predicted.
Theo had not proven himself at the helm yet, but cunning might suffice for the coming trial. He knew he well had the numbers to win this fight, but Precious hadn’t the numbers to win a fight and make it to shore. Theo was not a lying man, not even in battle, and he knew he wasn’t a sailor either. We will have to play the nuits, but their rotting asses are privy to tricks. Still, there must be a way.
