Pirates of the Sorcerean: No Peace on the Rock

Remove all ads!

Mister Fabian is seeing double by the time the prow of the longboat scrapes ashore at Sorrow’s Rock. The stark beauty of the craggy island that he could see with his eyes is overlaid by a shadow on his spirit. Darkness seems to flow from every crevice in the rock, every windswept tree clinging to the cliff, every tidepool on the beach. Which is real, and which the glamour? It is impossible for him to tell, so intertwined are the images. He wonders briefly if Nimue sees the island as he does, but gets his answer when the pirate leading the group from her boat rounds a small outcrop of rock, only to be pulled quickly into the shadows by a spectral embrace.

“STOP! Go no farther!” Mister Fabian leaps over the side of the longboat before it can be made fast, splashing the last few yards to the beach. The words of the ancient rhyme come unbidden to his lips, bringing a chill to the assembled crew.

“When ye who seek this wealth draw near
Ye shall face your deepest fear.
All brought forth by Steward’s spell,
Ye’ll see your demons, fair and fell.
Only the strongest of will and heart
Shall with this Captain’s treasure depart.”

“If you value your lives, you’ll let Nimue and I lead.”

 

Seeing the crowd of of people, Tanya strode towards them, noting what people were among them.
Seeing Fabian, her eyes flashed and she called him from a distance while walking closer.

"So there be the dog who is so concerned about the security on board! How is that such a noble spirit tuck tail and run when lives are at stake?" her words filled to the brink with scorn.

 

Mister Fabian sees Nimue, always ready with an angry retort, turn towards Tanya but stops her with a firm hand on her arm. He tries to give the First Mate the attention she is due but is distracted by trying to hold at bay the malevolence that permeates the island.

"I made a choice, Ma'am, to try to abate the storm at its source rather than letting it blow itself out." Nimue knows this to be a lie - if there was one thing that Mister Fabian had managed to impress upon her, it was that the Stewards' lack of true weather-magic was a sore issue with the order. If what Tanya was saying was true, then he really had abandoned his duty to try and save her, even after she... Nimue shook that thought away, returning to the conversation.

"Don't tell me about choices," Tanya snaps. "Your choice cost the lives of five good men!"

"And what would the price have been, had I chosen differently? Sometimes knowing the future only makes the choice harder, Ma'am," he replies softly, "so we have to base our choices on the past. For the rest of this voyage, I'll do my best to remember your preferences."

 

Tanya exploded at his last sentence, and punched him hard on the right side of the jaw, "There is no future!" she roared. "Not try, you will remember my preferences or you can find your own way home!"

Breathing heavily, she stood as if trying to stop herself from leaping upon Fabian, then slowly seemed to gain control of herself and muttered spiteful nodding at his jaw, "That was for Leonard."

 

Nimue's eyes flash as she takes a step forward. It is followed by a deep breath and an obvious attempt at keeping her temper; her knuckles are white, one hand clenched on what seems to be a hidden dagger.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" she snaps, and then makes a visible attempt at moderating her tone. "Fabian...and I, for that matter...we both did the best we could. Be careful with making assumptions in ignorance." She folds her arms under her breasts and stares Tanya down.

"You might wish to know," she adds, tone calmer but dripping sarcasm, "That the Storm we just went through is magical in origin, a hurricane whose eye lies above Sorrow's Rock! It is an old spell...I've never felt older, and some of the spells protecting the Order of Stewards are very old indeed. Its purpose - the sole reason for its exisence - was to keep any seafaring folk from the Rock in the first place!"

She glares at the crew and paces back and forth amongst them, her short stature not preventing her from staring each and every one in the eye as she moves through the assembled crowd of pirates.

"The purpose of the Storm was to kill," she says, very calmly and very coldly. "It has no respect for human life...for any life, because it serves to protect -" she ceases that train of thought and looks meaningfully at Tanya. She passes by her, standing alone in the middle of a ring of men, and, out of anyone's hearing range but that of the first mate herself, Nimue whispers, "I know Fabian told you. I trust you to be discreet."

She stops and stands right in front of Tanya. She looks at the ground. "I don't know if what we did was the best thing possible. But, to our knowledge, it was the only thing possible. If the Storm had proceeded without magical interference from us, we would have joined those unfortunate souls in the Dark Mother's embrace," she adds, pointing to the steep, craggy stones that surround the Rock. Indeed, there seem to be wreckages of ships - some recent, some over a century old - smashed against the unforgiving cliff.

"I only wish we could have done more," she finishes. "We cannot pick who lives and dies. We cannot save everybody. Magic is not infinite, nor inexhaustible, nor does it function without rules. For the lives of our shipmates, I am sorry."

 

"The hell you're sorry! They were worth the sacrifice for you!" she flicked forth her rapier in the moment of a heartbeat, and her cold gaze stared back at Nimue.

"You lead, if this is so important to you.." she whispered.

 

nm...

 

Nimue bites her lip and releases the grip she had on her dagger, hidden underneath her clothes. "No loss of life is worth it to me," she sais, very softly. "But the way I grew up, I saw that some loss of life happens no matter what you do." Her eyes close, and when they open again, they are wet. "Do you think accepting it ever gets any easier?" she hisses. "Do you think I like it? Do you think you are the only one who hurts?"

 

Laying his hand against his jaw, Mister Fabian steps between the two women. "Save it for the foes ahead," he says shortly in a surprisingly clear voice. When he drops his hand, all trace of swelling is gone. He doesn't look at either of them as he moves inland.

 

Tanya looks a bit oddly at her rapier, muttering under her breath so only Nimue can hear, "Compulsive behavior.." she nods at her rapier and sheathes it.

"I suppose you're right, we all have to endure our mistakes. However, never make the mistake to think that your own life does not have limited value. As for discretion.."
She starts walking slowly after Fabian, gesturing Nimue to follow by gently pushing her arm, and whispers as they walk.
"I see no reason why you should bring back whatever you seek here. Knowledge is power, and I've seen many captains fall under the sway of such, even myself. Fabian says himself that there was no greater steward than this Perry, how come don't you question what it is you're about to find here?"

 

Softly, Nimue replies, "I do...I do. But I trust Fabian's integrity with my life. Don't think that I'd be here helping him if I didn't. And frankly, I doubt that he plans to give what we find straight to the Order...but it would be even more dangerous to leave it behind for St John to find. Him I don't trust at all." Very softly, she adds, "When Fabian went to the Pride...." she pauses. "Do you think I value my life?" She shakes her head.

 

"I was thinking in destroying this.. whatever it might be. Blame it on my suspicion of your kind, but all this stinks from afar. I tried talking to Fabian about this too, but he seems to biased its magnitude and importance."

She looks a bit puzzled at Nimue at the question.
"You should always value your life. If not for yourself, then for someone else. There are times when your life can be the only way to.. save somebody else.." Trailing off into silence, Tanya looks in Fabian's direction, but her eyes seem to see something different than what's there.

Suddenly she breaks the silence, and speaks as if reciting a book.
"We only exist in the moment. This is why an act of glory to the benefit of others can be a benevolent act, even if sacrifice."

She looks to Nimue, and summons a short smile.
"Never forget the value of your life to others, often such people end up paying for foolish whims."

 

"Nobody but Fabian really values my life," she replies. "I know Stewards are often hated and feared, sometimes with a good cause. But...are you saying that you value my life?" She smiles, a smile with no cruelty or mockery, of herself or of others, apparent in it. It is shy, as if smiling is something she is unused to doing.

Then, as if frightened at how much she has revealed, her tone becomes brisk and businesslike. "The thought of destroying all this knowledge appalls me," she admits candidly. "But I promise to you that it is a possibility I will consider; certainly as a last resort, it would be better to destroy this knowledge than have it fall into certain hands...but also," she adds, "I hate making uninformed decisions, and have the feeling that there is much we do not yet know." Images dance across her Othersight like a flickering candle flame; all that she sees which is not visible on the physical plane seems to pass through a film of red, as if bathed in blood. "We cannot make an informed decision yet, but I suspect that whatever it is we need to know, waits for us...in the Rock."

She sighs, "Please, let us lead. It is true that you should not be too quick to draw your sword...although I suppose I can hardly lecture you, since this is one of my own faults, and far worse in me than it seems to be in you." She grins briefly, then adds, "But...just in case, keep your hands on your rapier hilt."

Swinging around to face Tanya, she blocks the woman's way and grabs her hands. "I ask you to trust me. Please. I swear to you, I mean no harm to you, or to your crew, or to any human life unless taking that life should mean saving countless others; it may yet come to that. But I swear it to you on all that is most dear to me....In the name of the Stewardship, by the power of the Blood, and for the memory of the Fall I swear it to you, Daughter of the Sea." She blinks, "I don't know where that came from, but I mean it wholeheartedly. I ask your trust, Tanya, and if you give it to me, I shall do my uttermost to be worthy of it."

 

Meatloaf, who had decided to come along, mainly to get off the boat but also to see what all this fuss about this treasure was, oh and of course to see these giant frogs that george mentioned, jumped ashore and wading though the surf.

"Ah! I never thought I'd be happier to see some empty island in the middle of some unknown sea! Finally I'm off that stinkin' boat!" Meatloaf shouted. Suddenly realising what he was saying he quickely stopped and turned a light shade of red.

 

"Don't worry, Meatloaf" Dante said "We all get a little sea sick (Or sick of the sea) sometimes. You, however," he adds with a smile "Happen to get it a little more than most people."

 

"I value all life.."
Tanya blinks at Nimue, finding some of her talk rather disturbing and looks at their hands.
"..you're starting to scare me a little, and I'd prefer to trust those worthy, not the other way around. Now, onward" she says briskly and turns around to face the crew, waving them over as he calls out for them.
"Follow at 20 paces distance men! Whatever foul things are here, let us not be caught surprised. If anything does happen, it will happen to the steward first."

Once again she turns to Nimue, whispering, "Many men aboard Ariel don't share any sympathy for the fate of Fabian. Let's away."
She starts following Fabian into Sorrow's Rock.

 

Nimue whispers back, "He is the most honorable person I know. He does not desire power, although like all Stewards he has a thirst for knowledge; yet even he, I think, would rather destroy the Lorebooks if there was a danger of them falling into the wrong hands. I will tell you something else. We are looking for the wrong hands, and we will deal with them. As for me, I try to do what's right, but doesn't everybody make mistakes?"

 

Dante walks cautiously, following Fabian, his sabre drawn. He was not the last man to think that something was seriously wrong.

 

Intent upon unraveling the sorcerous traps that made every path away from the beach a deadly gamble, Mister Fabian is only peripherally aware of the pirates trailing behind him. No single spell was particularly subtle, but the sheer number of them made it a daunting task. A pit into the void across the path… a strangling-cord hidden in hanging vines… a spirit looking for companionship in eternity… Progress towards the ruin is slow.

Turning to beckon Nimue forward from her whispered conversation with Tanya, Mister Fabian is startled when a small creature with a long tail leaps at him from the trees. It screeches angrily when it bounces off a hastily-thrown ward and tumbles back into the underbrush, only to race forward again. Dante’s blade appeared from nowhere to intercept the creature but he deals it only glancing blow in its headlong rush. It turns to him with another screech, scabbling wildly with its claws, trying to bite. Dante dispatches it with another sword stroke; he kneels with Mister Fabian to examine the animal.

“Natural, isn’t it?” he asks.

“It was, but twisted it beyond recognition. No animal can take constant exposure to such forces as exist here, without being warped in some fashion.” Mister Fabian stands and turns to the crew behind him. “Trust nothing here,” he warns. “No fruit, not even the water. I fear you’ll get far more than you think.” He doesn’t notice two pirates make a rude gesture at his back and continue eating several handfuls of berries as Nimue approaches and they continue clearing the way.

Birds that have developed a taste for fresh meat… darts tipped with sorcerous venom, hiding amongst a cloud of insects… a water-sprite beckoning them to rest forever in her pond… ferns that cast shadows deeper than their delicate fronds should allow… Progress slows further.

 

Now with a long knife in his hand, probably one he borrowed out of the kitchen back on the ship, Meatloaf followed along with the rest of the group. He was clever enough to take the Stweard's advise and not eat any food here, unlike some of the other crew who now were starting to look blueish. He knew perfectly well how horrible food poisoning could be from his years in the kitchen.

After leaving the beach, Meatloaf had stuck closely behind Tayna most of the way. This, he thought, was the best place to be. With that old navy officer, Dante, behind him and Tayna in front of him, he really couldn't think of many safer place... Apart from in the kitchen, he reminded himself.

They travelled on for hours, making very slow progress. Every ten minutes or so, by Meatloaf's reckoning, Mister Fabian would call a halt. Most of the time Meatloaf had no idea why, Magic stuff, he told himself, don't let it worry you, even though resently he had started to feel a slight tingle in the air. Although sometimes he certainly could see what the reason was. Another mutated animal might jump out, or a tree might creak, sometimes it was a hole in the ground that brought the company to a halt, or even an insect flying past would have everyone panicking.

"Miss Tanya," Meatloaf said after a long while of silence. "What exactly is this treasure that gets a Steward so worried?"

[ October 31, 2003, 19:50: Message edited by: Rotku ]