Post by Arguleon Veq on May 17, 2005 9:09:18 GMT -5
Blood in the Border Princes: Part II
The Sartosan Seduction
Captain Krase was up on deck, this had not been a good voyage. Ever since his last pick-up near Brionne an ominous dark fog had surrounded his small ship, a dark, brooding, all encompassing fog. He was a reasonably successful man and his family had run this small shipping business for centuries, simple passenger and cargo transports around the Old-World. His next stop was Luccini and the men were restless enough with the mysterious fog without the added tension of passing so close to the pirate principality: Sartosa. The name of that island struck fear into the heart of any captain or ships crew, a fear that Krase could not afford with his men’s morale being what it was. A ships crew is a superstitious bunch at the best of times and with the fog having followed them for weeks there was talk of dark magic and impending doom, a stark reality if they could not see properly as they tried to navigate the pirate current. Still Krase himself had no such worries about petty superstition, dark magic, 'Ha' Krase mused to himself.
* * *
Barraca was in a good mood, very rare for a man like him but he was in a good mood non-the less. His ship was heavy with gold and he hadn’t even needed to do any pirating himself in order to get it that way. Crew of one of the sleek Arabian corsair ships had boarded his ship in the night, black turbaned warriors cut a swathe through his men with their wicked curved blades, but he himself led a counter attack and reliable Old-World black powder had prevailed, pistols roaring into life kicking Arabians off their feet left right and centre, swivel guns killing dozens. Still if his lookout hadn’t spotted the glint of polished steel on the deck then it could have turned out completely differently. He had looted the enemy ship and was now stalking a new quarry, a cargo ship. Easy pickings.
* * *
The eerie silence that accompanied the fog was suddenly shattered as a deafening roar heralded a cannonball shredding into the deck, sending deadly shards of wood flying in all directions, bells were rung as it was realised they were under attack and Krase rallied his men around him as the passengers fled below deck. More cannon balls thudded into his ship and he still couldn’t even see where the enemy ship was ‘Curse this d**ned fog' screamed Krase over the din of cannon balls splintering the deck. He ordered his men to fire back, but they were shooting blind.
Then it moved into sight, drifting out of the fog and pulling alongside his ship, a pirates ship, bristling with weapons, the roars, shouts and insults of its cruel crew could be heard. They threw boarding hooks aboard and started preparing boarding ramps. Krase was hopelessly outnumbered and although well trained in seafaring his crew were no professional fighters, although he did have a small band of freelance warriors on board who had agreed to fight by his side. Pirate boatswains swung from the yardarms of their ship onto his own ship ‘Selena’ named after his late wife ‘I will join you soon my love Krase whispered’ as the swinging boatswains rained belaying pins down on them. A man to his left was hit in the shoulder by one, the short length of curved wood, used to secure rigging thundered into him, taking him down in a screaming, bloodied heap. The sell swords charged the pirates using the boarding planks, all were cut down by pistol fire besides Kromly the dwarf, he pulled himself up onto a plank and stood resolutely, battle axe inflicting a heavy toll on the pirates trying to cross. But their were more planks and the ships were now close enough to jump across, his men were charged, the easily recognisable face of the infamous pirate captain Barraca at the head of the group, his long hair flowing behind him, a red headband around his forehead, chest bristling with an array of blades and a heavy scimitar held aloft. Krase and his men were cut down in seconds. Kromly was incapacitated. The ship was now defenceless.
* * *
Barraca’s men started the task of taking prisoners and stealing the cargo, it didn’t take long and the raucous pirates killed most of the passengers. This did not concern Barraca most of them were of no worth. Barraca kicked open a door to one of the high-class cabins and raised a pistol, the beautiful young women that stood before him did not even flinch and Barraca grinned. She returned the smile, thin lips curling up slightly, Barraca was unsure why, but the smile disturbed him. Her pale alabaster complexion off set dramatically by her deep, blood red lips. Her long fine black hair flowed across her shoulders and back, reaching down to her hips and she wore a dress of finest Bretonnian design. He grabbed her arm and shoved her to one of his men ‘give this one a holding cell of her own, I will deal with her later’ his men laughed and took the young lady away, and still she did not cry out and showed no sign of emotion.
* * *
Barraca’s ship ‘Red Locust’ was under sail again. He stood alone on the bow, the wind whipped the tails of his headband around erratically, his fair hair blew around. The same fog that had followed the cargo ship he raided was now encompassing the ‘Locust’, still they were nearly at Sartosa and this was one of his best ships, nobody would dare raid one of the pirate lords best ships, least of all while he was aboard. His men unlike most crews were hard bitten, battle forged men, they cared not for superstition and fear, and they cared only for rum, gold, women and battle. The fog did not bother them in the slightest but Barraca had seen many things in his life and was more open to the idea of caution than most pirates.
* * *
It was night when his ship docked into his own port on the north side of Sartosa, the prisoners where unloaded and taken to the holding cells in Barraca’s large fortified mansion and the goods were taken to one of his many warehouses. He had much to attend to, many people waiting to meet with him, many messages to be read. But they could all wait till morning, he was home, he was on Sartosa and anything could happen on this cut-throat island.
The Sartosan Seduction
Captain Krase was up on deck, this had not been a good voyage. Ever since his last pick-up near Brionne an ominous dark fog had surrounded his small ship, a dark, brooding, all encompassing fog. He was a reasonably successful man and his family had run this small shipping business for centuries, simple passenger and cargo transports around the Old-World. His next stop was Luccini and the men were restless enough with the mysterious fog without the added tension of passing so close to the pirate principality: Sartosa. The name of that island struck fear into the heart of any captain or ships crew, a fear that Krase could not afford with his men’s morale being what it was. A ships crew is a superstitious bunch at the best of times and with the fog having followed them for weeks there was talk of dark magic and impending doom, a stark reality if they could not see properly as they tried to navigate the pirate current. Still Krase himself had no such worries about petty superstition, dark magic, 'Ha' Krase mused to himself.
* * *
Barraca was in a good mood, very rare for a man like him but he was in a good mood non-the less. His ship was heavy with gold and he hadn’t even needed to do any pirating himself in order to get it that way. Crew of one of the sleek Arabian corsair ships had boarded his ship in the night, black turbaned warriors cut a swathe through his men with their wicked curved blades, but he himself led a counter attack and reliable Old-World black powder had prevailed, pistols roaring into life kicking Arabians off their feet left right and centre, swivel guns killing dozens. Still if his lookout hadn’t spotted the glint of polished steel on the deck then it could have turned out completely differently. He had looted the enemy ship and was now stalking a new quarry, a cargo ship. Easy pickings.
* * *
The eerie silence that accompanied the fog was suddenly shattered as a deafening roar heralded a cannonball shredding into the deck, sending deadly shards of wood flying in all directions, bells were rung as it was realised they were under attack and Krase rallied his men around him as the passengers fled below deck. More cannon balls thudded into his ship and he still couldn’t even see where the enemy ship was ‘Curse this d**ned fog' screamed Krase over the din of cannon balls splintering the deck. He ordered his men to fire back, but they were shooting blind.
Then it moved into sight, drifting out of the fog and pulling alongside his ship, a pirates ship, bristling with weapons, the roars, shouts and insults of its cruel crew could be heard. They threw boarding hooks aboard and started preparing boarding ramps. Krase was hopelessly outnumbered and although well trained in seafaring his crew were no professional fighters, although he did have a small band of freelance warriors on board who had agreed to fight by his side. Pirate boatswains swung from the yardarms of their ship onto his own ship ‘Selena’ named after his late wife ‘I will join you soon my love Krase whispered’ as the swinging boatswains rained belaying pins down on them. A man to his left was hit in the shoulder by one, the short length of curved wood, used to secure rigging thundered into him, taking him down in a screaming, bloodied heap. The sell swords charged the pirates using the boarding planks, all were cut down by pistol fire besides Kromly the dwarf, he pulled himself up onto a plank and stood resolutely, battle axe inflicting a heavy toll on the pirates trying to cross. But their were more planks and the ships were now close enough to jump across, his men were charged, the easily recognisable face of the infamous pirate captain Barraca at the head of the group, his long hair flowing behind him, a red headband around his forehead, chest bristling with an array of blades and a heavy scimitar held aloft. Krase and his men were cut down in seconds. Kromly was incapacitated. The ship was now defenceless.
* * *
Barraca’s men started the task of taking prisoners and stealing the cargo, it didn’t take long and the raucous pirates killed most of the passengers. This did not concern Barraca most of them were of no worth. Barraca kicked open a door to one of the high-class cabins and raised a pistol, the beautiful young women that stood before him did not even flinch and Barraca grinned. She returned the smile, thin lips curling up slightly, Barraca was unsure why, but the smile disturbed him. Her pale alabaster complexion off set dramatically by her deep, blood red lips. Her long fine black hair flowed across her shoulders and back, reaching down to her hips and she wore a dress of finest Bretonnian design. He grabbed her arm and shoved her to one of his men ‘give this one a holding cell of her own, I will deal with her later’ his men laughed and took the young lady away, and still she did not cry out and showed no sign of emotion.
* * *
Barraca’s ship ‘Red Locust’ was under sail again. He stood alone on the bow, the wind whipped the tails of his headband around erratically, his fair hair blew around. The same fog that had followed the cargo ship he raided was now encompassing the ‘Locust’, still they were nearly at Sartosa and this was one of his best ships, nobody would dare raid one of the pirate lords best ships, least of all while he was aboard. His men unlike most crews were hard bitten, battle forged men, they cared not for superstition and fear, and they cared only for rum, gold, women and battle. The fog did not bother them in the slightest but Barraca had seen many things in his life and was more open to the idea of caution than most pirates.
* * *
It was night when his ship docked into his own port on the north side of Sartosa, the prisoners where unloaded and taken to the holding cells in Barraca’s large fortified mansion and the goods were taken to one of his many warehouses. He had much to attend to, many people waiting to meet with him, many messages to be read. But they could all wait till morning, he was home, he was on Sartosa and anything could happen on this cut-throat island.
