

## Black White

## and

## Shades of Greyy

### By

### E. M. Frear

Smashwords Edition

Black White and Shades of Greyy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 ElissaBeth M Frear

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

This book was written for my children who have always enjoyed the story of Greyy and her antics.

I would like to thank those characters that were instrumental in making Greyy who and what she was.

Thank you to my husband who encouraged me and stood by me through the entire birthing process of this saga.

Mom, your encouragement and desire to know what Greyy was up to next was so much more encouraging than I can possibly express, thank you.

I love you all and thank you.

The World of

Elisandria

## Chapter 1

Lazy clouds dotting the crystal blue sky gazed over the countryside keeping watch over the world of Elisand. Small towns and villages mingled with large cities and separated by vast forests and deep seas belied the turmoil that brought the world to its current pattern.

Thick woods and high mountains made a natural barrier between habitable lands. The few flat places were once battle grounds for bloody wars. Most of the turmoil was over trade and farming rights, but all were vicious.

Small family units would unite with others to form larger factions that would rise against one another until they all but destroyed themselves.

Large family clans that had built strength and resources over many years began to rise up and find the futility of the fighting. Finding peace between the clans had moved to the forefront of the attention given to politics, along with establishing productive trade and commerce within the smaller outlying clans.

Several generations passed and the wars began to fizzle. The Clans of Men came together to form an Empire, the strongest of the Clans held the power appointing the lesser ones to positions of importance. The Clan of Prescott reigned and governed the lands over many decades bringing peace to the lands.

The beginning of the reign of Clan Prescott saw a massive eruption from one of the tallest peaks in the land. The volcano severely altered the maps and boundaries along with the lives of people living around its base. The event was dubbed "The Great Catastrophe" and set in motion events that none could foresee or plan. Blind faith in the ruling government was no longer sufficient. Peasants in remote villages began to seek new deities and superstitions in order to protect from further chaos and destruction.

The Great Catastrophe also revealed races that had been well hidden within the deep forests. These races were seen by some to be Supernatural beings and therefore worshiped or revered as such. The trades between towns and villages were cut across lands belonging to people groups with little regard to the cultures that were represented. Some roads cut through the Dark Woods were rarely traveled leaving the myths and legends of fantastic creatures and terrifying entities firmly intact. The fear and superstition was not entirely unfounded.

Even many years after the volcano people were still terrified of darkness. They looked to their Emperor to alleviate suspicions and fears. When Emperor Prescott IV came to power his desire was to unite the outlying Clans by taking a wife of a neighboring family as a show of good faith. Beatrice was the eldest daughter of Chief Gilesby. She was of legendary beauty and grace and the people loved her.

Chief Gilesby was the Commandant of the Empirical Guard and had training stations set in several strategic locations all around the Empire. The union between the Empirical family and that of the Gilesby Clan was greatly desired and the fact that the Emperor and Beatrice enjoyed each other was an added benefit.

The Chief's greatest fear was meeting the creature that belonged to the soft glowing yellow eyes he would at times glimpse while traveling in the forests surrounding Port Gilesby. He went to his grave never fully knowing what those creatures were, but before he died he instilled in his children the fear and contempt for those things not easily understood. With prejudice firmly instilled Beatrice influenced the Emperor in also distrusting those things not easily explained.

High on a tall sweeping butte overlooking a thriving metropolis stood a castle fortress where the Emperor and his bride ruled the lands claimed by his family for generations. Emperor Prescott IV and Empress Beatrice governed with fairness and an open mind, to those of their own race. But a deep prejudice threatened the civility of the different people groups within the lands near their kingdom. There are two people groups that the Empire held in deep disgust, the Enchanted Tabaxi and the pointed ear Elf.

## Chapter 2

Ice blue sky kissed with fluffy white clouds wrap an envelope of untainted serenity around the thick mass of foliage of the Tabaxi home lands. They are a tall sleek and elegant race remarkably feline in appearance with a deep intelligence and understanding of their world. Their clear yellow eyes with hints of gold and bronze have a clear view through the undergrowth and an uncanny ability to see in dark places. Long bodies and fierce retractable claws make high tree tops the desired vantage points for observation and ambush. These Savage felines speak in the language of their ancestors, but with a growling purr have adopted the language common to Man. They have a hierarchy and established rules and order along with a deeply spiritual reverence for the world in which they live. They are highly curious and more apt to take a secret than to give one.

Surrounded by the sea and separated from other clans the Cat Race are uniquely embracing of the water. Uncommon for felines these people enjoy the water and will often be seen playing in tide pools or bathing in small inlets and fresh water springs hidden deep within their jungle home. Primitive in their life style and surroundings but sly in the use of environment their tools and toys echo the nature of the habitat.

The Mystic Cats are also given to summoning the land and sky in order to assist in their investigation of new areas. Sailors from all over the world have told stories and tales of mysterious land masses appearing from the mist only to fade again as quickly as they appear. These enchanted oases in the sea are told to be avoided at all cost. 

## Chapter 3

All the Elves hold a place in the Emperor's heart of deep disdain. None are sure the reasoning behind the obvious dislike of the elegant people separated by the mountains, but the fact remains any Elf caught within the Kingdom will be treated with disfavor and deep disgust.

Trade routes remained intact but interaction was not encouraged. Merchants from the Elf home lands were far from welcomed but human traders were often sent to sell wares at exaggerated prices over the mountains. When it was discovered that Elf lands held resources far superior to that of the lands of the Empire the hostilities became even fiercer.

Several mountain passes cut through the lands of Dark Elves, who are known for their deep earth magic and brutal ferocity. These passes required the Emperor to establish a police force known as the Royal Elisandrian Guards. They were a trained militia paid for with taxes by the Crown. One of the grand accomplishments of Emperor Prescott IV and his Empress was the establishment of an organized military. The Guards patrolled the land and the Sandarian Navy patrolled the waterways. Prominent families well known to be friends of the Empire held high positions in both branches, regardless of capabilities of the specific individual. Blatant disregard to obvious talent set several families at odds with established governmental officials. Even with minor turbulence within the ranks the military was becoming a force to be recognized.

## Chapter 4

Nestled deep in a lost glade on the back side of a thick forest lays a river dug by glaciers and hewn by the very mountains that surround. Just at the point where the horizon greets the sky and kisses the celestial bodies sits an emerald jewel surrounded by crystal waters. This lush landscape abandoned by travelers and explorers is a home to a people who have, for centuries, frolicked and played, reared children and lived lives undisturbed. Observing and respecting the beauty of the earth beneath their feet these Highland Elves passed each day in peace and tranquility with little thought of the ways of Man.

Families built cozy homes nestled in the trees, played with birds and forest creatures and learned the arts of magic and hunt. Greyylene and her family lived and learned in these woods high above the cares of mortals. As a young Elvin maiden she was taught the life of high society and etiquette, although she hated most of the pomp and circumstance. Her sister, the lovely yet frail Amadia, longed to be part of the teachings, yet because she was younger was not allowed to attend the classes. But the affection shared by the sisters ran deep as the glacier lake and just as lovely. Lessons taught to one would be learned by both.

They were siblings so tightly woven together as to not tell where one ended and the other began. They were opposites, yet their bond was that of the sun and moon. Sweet Amadia, with her delicate features and quiet personality dressed in soft linens and lush cotton skirts, was the balance to Greyylene's brash and headstrong fiery wit. Amadia took to the magic and study of the nature around her, where Greyylene grasped the bow belted her leather flared pant and became the terror of the forest. So fierce was the love and bond of the sisters that even those beaux who would try to woo one without the other would need be wary for any emotional damage would be met with severe repercussions.

The girls learned their loyalty from parents who found that love tempered with fair discipline and affection produced offspring with a deep sense of justice, patience, and compassion. As the small family grew in age and beauty their bond also became one of unrivaled magnitude. Other families in the Glade looked and admired them as an example of love and family devotion.

Even when the girls were apart they would send small birds with notes back and forth to one another. They developed their own little code and secret language, thinking they were so terribly clever and witty. Amadia taught simple potions and herbal mixtures to her older sibling, and in turn was shown the fine craft of sewing animal skins together to create beautiful clothing. They would lie under the stars in a small clearing and talk for hours just watching the night dance before them. At times they would fall asleep in the peaceful embrace of the forest breeze and moonlight kisses.

## Chapter 5

Age to the Elf is recognized in relation to centuries lived and the ages passed. Greyylene and her sister were young in comparison to the Human calendar. They had both witnessed the vast destruction from the mighty eruption that formed their bit of paradise. They remember watching the land heal itself and create again the beauty from the scars of mass destruction.

Although birthdays were not of such great importance, some milestones were recognized. The morning of Greyylene's 100th year rose clear and bright. It was greeted by waves of lush green and cheers of birds and woodland animals. The girls each woke in their unique ways to usher in a new day. Greyylene growled at the sun shining in her eyes and tried to roll over to return to the dream so rudely interrupted. Amadia yawned and stretched smiling at the sweet golden rays and chirping birds. Once the morning had begun adventure for these two siblings was free to rule the day. Neither was prepared for the twist of fortunes that waited just beyond the horizons.

Amadia, firmly grounded to the earth collected her basket and clippers to gather herbs and spices for cooking and other "experiments". Greyylene snatched her bow and donned her quiver and with a quick hug, kiss and a pat on the head from her parents leapt into action chasing unseen foes and villains.

Leaping through tree tops and swinging from branches like a Monkey, the wild huntress was stunned into utter stillness by a sight she found appalling. Climbing to the top of a nearby tree she watched as a small band of husky men came for the sheer purpose of harvesting the forest of its foliage. One after another the trees were cut and hauled to the water. Not only had they not asked permission of the Forest to steal in such a manner, but the surrounding waters were unfriendly and deep. The lake had been forged by a great glacier and ran as deep as the mountains are tall. At the opening of the surrounding lands drops a long ferocious waterfall. How these shortsighted individuals could possibly hope to keep their ill-gotten gains seemed a mystery to the young Elf.

Rushing back to the settlement to warn the Elders she was greeted with rebuke for interrupting and foolish babbling. There would be no way any Humans would enter this region unnoticed or uninvited. Undaunted and irritated she returned to her look out post, after stopping to see her sister and share with her the grand adventure unfolding before them. Even Amadia, her sweet sister and closest friend, ridiculed the absurdity of such a notion. In a huff Greyylene stormed off to continue the investigation on her own.

Expecting to be home for the late evening meal full of stories and proof of what she had seen she climbed a tree closer to where the men worked so as to get a much better view. Her ability to move throughout the forest unseen was a great asset in hunting, and proved quite useful here if not a little foolish. The actions of the men were foreign and confusing to her. Why would anyone want to cut down all the trees? Pondering questions and fighting the irritation of those in the village, not to mention completely bored from watching men cut trees Greyylene grew tired and fell asleep at the top of a large pine. It was only the hacking and sawing at the base of her tree that woke her. By the time she understood what was happening it was far too late. Dropping her bow she held to the great tree as it plummeted into the icy waters to make its maiden voyage to the bottom of the falls downstream.

## Chapter 6

Hours turned into days and Greyylene was nowhere to be found. Her family was franticly searching for her to no avail. Even the search party that was assembled had a difficult time finding her track in the thick underbrush. Her skill at fading into the surrounding areas was making any search for her near impossible. Because she had stayed to the tops of the trees she left no footprints in the soft forest floor.

Suddenly their fortune seemed to change when one of the Scouts found the bow that had been dropped. The same time they found the bow was the same time they heard the voices from the Humans who had come to harvest their forest. The realization that the reports originally brought were true turned into an uneasy sense of dread. Quickly hiding behind trees the search party listened for any clue as to the location of the lost citizen. The language of the strangers was not familiar and it was decided that they needed to at least try to communicate if for no other reason than to get these men off their lands.

The first tall warrior to step out of the shadows and towered above the Men seemed to be such an unusual sight that the strangers almost fell back into the waters. When more stepped forward the terror was complete. The tall Highland Elves are not so much a frightening sight as they are impressive. Long willowy figures with light skin marked with forest designs and hair that echoed the colors of gold and bronze, bright shining eyes and a fierce gaze that seem to cut straight to the heart of a matter add to the elegant air they present. The leader of the search party stepped forward to try to communicate the need for information.

Standing tall and proud the Elf firmly planted his staff into the soft sand and in the language of his people stated that they had lost a girl and wondered if they knew where she could be found. The puzzled looks and dumbfounded silence were all he had in return. The men shook their heads and threw hands to the air in surrender making it obvious that this was not going in the intended direction. The sudden rustle and commotion from the forest made everyone jump. Flying through the brush in a frenzied panic rushed Amadia breaking through the line of warriors and scouts. She stood before the men and without a word she held up the bow that dropped and pointed to herself then made a gesture of a 'second' standing next to her.

Amadia's piercing green eyes and long auburn hair adorned with feathers and shells made her pleading clear and the pain in her heart alive and broad cast through her entire being. The men seemed not only to understand what she was wanting, but knew the answer to their search. They pointed to a tree and making a 'falling' motion to the water pointing downstream it became clear what had happened. The tree fell and floated down the river with a passenger. The sorrow and agony that over took the young Amadia was felt by all including the Humans, but the anger and loathing for those who had come uninvited felt by her parents was an inferno of passion and resolve to rid the land of these fiends who had taken their child.

So violent was the eruption of Elvin fury that even the others of the tribe were stunned. The couple flew from their places in the part and tore at the Human invaders with such speed and ferocity their damage was complete before the Elders had time to quiet them. The couple was dragged away by the others in the party and returned to the village to await a directive from the Council. Waiting for the verdict of their fate for actions taken against the Humans the shattered family found little solace in the simple routines of the day. They were forced back to their home and instructed to remain until a time when a search would be possible.

## Chapter 7

They did comply with the instructions for the moment. That evening after forcing food to stay in their mouths and stomachs they watched Amadia cry herself to sleep. So exhausted she never even stirred as her parents prepared for their night of mayhem and murder. Donning armor and weapons the couple softly kissed their remaining child and gazed down at her as if knowing it would be the last time they would ever see her. Turning to gaze one last time at their home ripped asunder by events far beyond their control they melted into the darkness on a mission of cemented passion and folly.

Reaching the small camp at the edge of the river the couple's silent rage tore into the night. Unleashing a torrent of outrage at the accident that tore their daughter from them the elf couple left in their wake a string of bloodied bodies. The men of the quiet lumberjack camp were hardly recognizable after the fury was unleashed. This event sealed their place as outlaws as they single handedly massacred the remaining lumberjack camp. The thorough completion of their attack left none to carry the news or to return to the main lands. Stealing a small boat used to guide logs downstream they awkwardly maneuvered the craft to the shores of the mainland.

As soon as their feet hit the beach they raced through the world of Man hoping to create as much pain and sorrow as they felt. The heart of the parents ripped from their souls left them empty shells of individuals. They had become so focused on the wicked task that the life of peace and serenity became nothing more than a flicker of an ember in a dark night.

## Chapter 8

Greyylene, grasping at branches and hiding in pine boughs through the ice chilled waters rode the current downstream to the inevitable plunge at the falls. Knowing her time on the waking plain was nearly expired she held fast closing her eyes and praying to the deities she thought she knew. Plunging in the free fall of the majestic cascade Elf and tree landed hard against rocks and boulders. The tree shattered leaving little more than a small section of trunk and limbs for the passenger to ride. At the base of the falls other logs had been gathered, most were also broken and useless from the plunge. Surviving the hurling plummet and abrupt stop, Greyylene summoned her remaining strength. She scrambled to the top side of her little log to be out of the freezing water. Her next task was to bind logs together by intertwining their branches and using them as a raft to hopefully float to safety.

By the time the lone elf was rescued several days had passed and the small raft was well out in the open seas far from any shore. The fear she felt was more from the unknown future as opposed to the strangers who found her. The cold ocean and salt water were beginning to take a toll on her mind and body. No drinkable water or food for days and no shelter from the sun burned her skin and parched her lips and mouth to the point of making her unable to speak coherently.

Floating on her makeshift raft the tall elf looked as though she belonged as much in the Ocean as she did in trees. Her coloring and markings that blended perfectly for forest life also proved appropriate for sea life. Her pale smoky gray complexion mixed with the long streaming mahogany locks accented her bronze copper flecked eyes. Her long willowy limbs with the natural waving and shifting pigments of her people clung tight to the logs on which she floated. The art of blending into the surroundings, for her, was as natural as breathing. In her weakened state, however, the Elvin aura and soft glow that normally accompanies one of her race had begun to fade.

## Chapter 9

The ship that found the soggy pile of elf debated long and rather boisterously on what to do with the "body floating in the water". Uncertain if it was a bad omen to bring a dead body aboard just to throw it back the crew argued pointlessly among themselves until the captain strode on deck and made the decision for them.

"Haul that t'in aboard n see What or Who it may be, Den we sees what to do wit' it!" he said with a gruff shove to the nearest crewmate.

Unceremoniously hefted from the raft, almost like a bag of oats, the sailor that slung the unconscious form over his shoulder never bothered to see if she was alive or dead. His duty fulfilled once he delivered her to the deck he moved back quickly as to avoid further contamination from the "cursed figure". Highly superstitious, the crew chanted and muttered incantations to their respective deities hoping they would be the one to stave off any further undeserved damnations. It was only when the captain came and turned the form over with the toe of his boot that the full realization of the terror they had brought aboard was grasped.

Such a horror they had brought into their midst! Not only was this a Female, but the colors and markings must prove it to be a Siren or some other mystical creature from the Depths teasing them into some kind of servitude. The crew immediately backed away, some so far back to be in danger of falling over the rails, leaving the new arrival a wide berth. Weakened by her extended stay in open waters Greyylene was forced to lay semi-conscious on the deck watching the crew's reactions to her presence.

Knowing that to order any of the crew to take the female would most likely result in mutiny the Captain grabbed her by the back of her waterlogged shirt and dragged her to an empty cabin. Tossing her to the bed he left. She was relieved at the solitude but now began to shiver from being cold and still soaked through with sea water. Drifting in and out of coherence she tried to devise a plan of escape.

## Chapter 10

A short time later the ship's doctor came to investigate the unusual find, bringing with him a change of clothing and a basin of warm water. Nervously entering the dimly lit room, the mutterings of the crew behind him, he laid the clothes and basin on a low table and began to inspect for damage.

She stirred at his touch and woke with a start causing the doctor fall backwards in a chair. Her hands spread out like claws; she stood at the corner of the bed still a bit drippy. Flustered, disoriented barely able to see clearly she demanded, using her own Elvin tongue, to know who he was and more to the point Where she was.

The doctor's look of panic and confusion was so ridiculous that it made her stop mid tirade. Silently she watched as the man collected himself and righted the chair. Standing at his full height he was slightly shorter than she and looked to be older than a child but younger than the mountains. He was wise in his youth with kind eyes and long gentle hands. His long auburn hair had touches of silver and he kept it neatly tied at the base of his neck. The hair growing across his lip hiding a ready smile was unusual at best and caught Greyylene's curiosity. Her eyes tired and stinging from salt water blinked but refused to look away, she followed his movements closely as he moved slowly to the table. He gently picked up the pile of dry clothes and handing them to her he spoke in a language she had never heard.

"I know these are men's clothes, but they seemed like they'd fit ok. I'm pretty sure you don't have one inkling what I'm tell'nya, but I be Doc." he said pointing to himself.

Puzzled and trying to follow his words she copied what he said when he pointed to himself. "Do'K." she said in the raspy voice of one who has spent far too long on the sea with no protection.

With a smile and a nod, he handed her the clothes and turned to go.

"I'll be back wit' ye in a moment lass." he said knowing she would not understand.

## Chapter 11

When he returned with a meal and fresh water, she was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed staring out the small porthole. The quiver she had been wearing was hung upside down to dry on the end of the bed. Her hair neatly braided and lying across her back gave her spine a rather ethereal look. He stood a moment in the door mesmerized by the sight of her exotic beauty before knocking. The sound of his knock took her by surprise and she immediately melted into the shadows of the room.

"Whoa! It's just Me, Doc! Come back." he said searching the small room for her presence. "I brought Food. Don't be fear'n Me, lass."

He stood dead still until she reappeared, almost beside him. Slightly flustered he stood holding out the food to her. When he decided she was not a ghost or a threat he placed the tray on the desk near the door and started to give names to each item. He would hold an item to her and say its name then reaching out she would copy the word as she took the item.

"Bread." He would say as he held the small loaf in the palm of his outstretched hand.

Embarrassed at the odd pronunciations she tried several times to repeat him twisting her mouth to copy his.

"BrrEed." She finally stated with some degree of satisfaction taking it quickly from his hand.

In this way, he began to teach her the language of Men.

Days turned to weeks as the crew sailed the coasts of the major land masses. The ship that found her was a merchant vessel and made many stops at harbors delivering and acquiring goods and resources along the way. Most of the time Greyylene was tasked to stay aboard ship so as not to hinder deals with local shop keepers. She would use the time when the crew was ashore to walk the decks and riggings learning the inner workings and rhythm of the ship.

Greyylene proved to be a quick learner and asset to the deck. She picked up knots and sails quickly and could climb the ropes faster than most of the seasoned sailors on board. At first they saw her as a curse or bad omen, but quickly she became known as the 'lucky charm'. Her forest cunning proved to be somewhat useful even at sea. Sharp Elf eyes gave her the unique ability to see fathoms further than the others and even better at night. She also had an uncanny ability to feel a storm coming long before it showed across the horizon.

The armor and change of clothing she was given, while they had been male in origin, seemed to fit her tall frame with elegance and grace only a female of her race could accomplish. The only article of clothing that couldn't quite be garnered from the ship's reserves was shoes. Most often she was seen barefoot rather than trying to cram her odd sized feet into men's boots.

## Chapter 12

So enamored with the newest member of the crew the Doc had desired to do something special for her. Noticing her quiver when she first arrived he knew immediately what he would do for her. When the ship had sailed into port with a well-known Fletcher for a short stay to load more cargo the Doctor slipped to town in order to acquire a new quiver and long bow. He presented her with his treasures at dinner that night and was quite thrilled when he saw the excitement on her face as she picked up the new instruments of her craft. The others of the crew watched in awe as her fingers glided across the new bow like a musician to an instrument.

When the tall elegant Elf first came aboard the crew had decided they would protect her like a puppy from any harm that may befall an ocean going vessel. They were proven naïve in their underestimated value of her skills. Her home was not the water but her forest skills proved to translate quite effectively. As a hunter in the forest Greyylene was accustomed to killing creatures much larger than she. But the seas also gave horrendous beasts.

A day out from harbor after she had received the new bow and arrows the heavy laden ship was caught in a mysterious eddy. The seas growled and churned beneath them in the wake of something huge. They were in no position to outrun the mysterious threat so were forced to stay and fight.

Notching an arrow into the bow string she wrapped herself in some ropes for balance waiting and watching the churning caldron below them. Seeing that the crew was not familiar with archers she tried to stay aware of where each man was positioned so as not to hit a fellow sailor rather than whatever creature was to emerge. The first slithering tentacles that wrapped over the rails gave the perspective of size. This was something the highland forest elf had never before witnessed. Steeling herself against the rising panic she waited to see just what this beast really was. As the Kraken broke the surface of the water and its eye met hers she released her arrow and notched another in such rapid succession that the creature had been mortally wounded before it could process where the attack originated. The others of the crew quickly dispatched the beast and sent it back to a watery grave. Climbing down from the mast she looked over the rails in awe at the size of what they had just fought.

"What was that?" she said still gazing over the edge.

"That, Lass, is what we calls a Kraken. They be a bit testy and a menace to most who fish these waters. Not to mention they have no value for food, no use with its hide for even a proper weapon. Ye can't cook it, they gots no value other than to terrorize ships. useless creatures." The sailor said with a scowl and spit over the edge in disgust at the sinking body.

Returning to her quarters Greyy relived the encounter with the mighty Kraken. Now that the battle was over her body began to quake at the massive size of the beast and reality of the danger began to settle in her mind. Her ability with the bow had become something that the sailors were proud to have on their ship, but for her it held little comfort. Danger and loneliness began to overwhelm her as the crew could be heard outside celebrating the victory over the Great Sea Demon.

## Chapter 13

Overwhelmed by so many changes in her environment Greyylene often found herself sitting alone deep in thought. Frequently she would find a dark corner to work her bow or arrows but sometimes she would just sit and watch the sailors. Her mind would wander to her home far across the waves. A smile would creep across her face as she recalled times with her family and friends. Always the antics that she and her sister would find lifted her spirit and eased her loneliness.

She remembered a time when the sisters would race the length of their small island; Greyylene would always win having longer legs and more stamina. Their playground was the whole island and very few areas they did not know as intimately as they knew their own homes. They always reveled in new discoveries and treated each one as a grand adventure.

Sitting in a dark corner of the ship Greyylene took out one of the smooth orbs that were kept safely in a small pouch on her belt. She held it in her hand and recalled the story of their discovery.

The day that the young Amadia fell into a deep crevice both terrified and excited the girls. It took Greyylene hours to find the path to her only to discover that her sister had made a very important find without her. A cave lined with glacial minerals and deposits with a rainbow of extraordinary stones lay under the colony untouched by any of the other villagers.

One of the most intriguing stones they found in the cave was the "Whispering Stone"; the girls found them lovely and would pretend they were useful for currency. Its use was discovered accidentally when the girls were out playing in the forest. Greyylene's ability to melt into the background becoming almost invisible allowed her to play jokes on her sister with great frequency. Holding one of the stones in her hand and whispering into it, but to herself, Greyy threw the stone and both were shocked at the results.

When the stone hit the ground behind Amadia the exact words that Greyylene had whispered into it were stated again by the stone. The combined expression of both girls secured the moment in their minds and set them on a course of finding as many of the smooth rocks as they could carry.

They would play and hone the skill of the "Whispering Stone" as often as possible. A simple discovery provided hours of entertainment over their years of play and growth.

## Chapter 14

Carving a clear path of terror across the mainland communities Greyylene's parents were meticulous in their vicious attacks. Quietly they would enter a settlement and watch carefully the activity around them. Most often none would notice their presence; occasionally they would be tossed a coin or a scrap of food being mistaken as a beggar. Once the sun drifted around the backside of the horizon they would seek the home of their mark.

Most often a family of four with two daughters would be the ones the vengeful couple would seek. Gazing into the window or open doorway they would watch quietly until the family went to bed. The girls would be safely tucked into bed for the night then the nightmare would begin.

Gentle as summer dew and fast as lightning the Elf couple would enter the home to accomplish the gruesome task. Rarely lingering long enough to take notice of the homes they entered, poor or wealthy the task was the same. The oldest child was slaughtered in their bed and a lock of hair removed. As the couple left the village they would tie the hair around a tall stick and bury it in the ground just at the entrance to the town. In this manner each town would eventually realize they were the victim of a tragic event that stole one of their citizens.

Nights of silence and peace greeted mornings of screams and terror when the discovery was made of the violence that swept through the villages of Men. Families cut apart in their beds while they slept as a new fiend brought down an unholy massacre on innocents. The fury driven couple so blinded by the disappearance of their child turned to a life of murder exacting revenge on anything that even remotely hinted at being of the invading race called Human. Peaceful civilians did not exist in their mind and thinking. All they knew was bloodlust and hate that had once been the deep love and family devotion so envied by their neighbors.

## Chapter 15

It was not long until the Authorities of the land heard of a killing spree and sent out wanted posters for information concerning the midnight fiends.

Quickly and quietly they slid through the night to accomplish their task. None ever saw who had come to rain down sorrow and anguish to the human families and homes; at least that was their thinking.

It had become part of their game as they traveled and a matter of pride to go from place to place unnoticed. Seeing the posters asking for information added to their satisfaction.

As elves they would stand out as unusual in crowds without disguises. Covering their ears and long features by hunching over and walking with staggered limps the couple was free to move about the villages taking note and making preparations for the night's raids. Resting in the heat of the day in cool shadows they would summon their strength and energy for the gruesome job to come. When the lights would dim and disappear they moved. Their stealth used for hunting forest beasts became a useful tool for these new lands. They often would remember teaching their own children the same techniques they now used. Breathe in, breathe out, slowly close eyes and melt into the shadow then step one foot in front of the other light as a feather and quiet as a moonbeam. The formula was the same, and the prey never knew what happened.

A whispered prayer offered to the dead, in their mind, justified the act of revenge.

The prayer had been added late in their rampage after coming across a family who prayed with the children before tucking them soundly into their beds. The parents would kneel by the bed with their child, hands folded serenely as they recited the incantation of peace for slumber. After stealing the life and granting the child permanent slumber the Elf couple found a perverse pleasure in copying the routine and adding their own twist by removing the lock of hair as they ended their supplication with a breath and bloody swipe of the blade.

Months of not knowing had turned the hope of the couple into hatred. The love they had so deep for their child now turned their hearts to stone. Even if they wanted to return to their village it would be impossible to take back that which had been lost. Their hands were covered in the blood of innocence for the sake of an implied injustice. They continued through the lands of Men pillaging and killing continuing to lay the foundation for a life they welcomed and embraced in the name of their daughter.

So consumed by their grief and hate the couple, who had once found such pleasure in finding new things in nature, now tore through forest and fields with such a blind rage they saw nothing of their environment. Steep mountains covered in snow or the lush green valleys and the meadows full of wildflowers like a raging river blurred into nothingness. The colors and aromas that surrounded them became tones of death gray and stale air. When they camped between villages the campfire would stir up the ashes of their demons. The smoke swirled into the nightmare they felt shifting into the horror they would inflict. With each life they took the darker the world became.

## Chapter 16

The realm of Men would never be as beautiful as the home they had with their daughters and therefore would never require being explored. They had no use for knowing what amazements lay before them, for it belonged to Men and that alone was sufficient reason to keep curiosity beyond reach.

The lands they wandered were full of such wonder that had the situation been different they would have spent years exploring every leaf and crevice that presented before them. The intent was not to understand the world of Men but to destroy its soul. As they were torn and ruined so too was the desire for all that surrounded them. The mountains and plains that took their steps offered no solace or comfort. Flowers and birds hummed and chirped a scoffing little laugh as they passed; the joy in life ridiculed the sorrow of great loss. Nights bore the agony that even the stars would despise. The moon in its glory laughed at their pain and the sun scorched the already parched landscape of their heart. The song nature sung stung as a bitter reminder of the nightmare they lived, to outlive a child.

## Chapter 17

Moving along alone in unfamiliar lands they were often left unable to patrol their camps properly. They had no way of knowing that small hunting parties had been formed to locate and follow the Scourge of the Coast. Footsteps they left behind carried a terrible hint of darkness as they traveled.

One dark skinned man had detected their evil essence. He was a hired tracker and also an Elf from the Dark Places. Thick silver white hair of his people and the soft lavender eyes allowed him to command a presence. Those who hired him knew him only as a bounty hunter; any other information was irrelevant so long as he accomplished the given assignment. He was an expert in seeing the aura of his prey, and the Elf couple had become an easy target.

The Dark Elf was not the only tracker following the aura of the tormented couple. Another one who bore Light had been summoned from a far corner of the Empire with a very different purpose and by a much Higher Power. Each tracker had a very different task but both would be entwined in the lives of the couple and that of their family.

The couple moved through the thick forest lands and along the coast. They followed the lands, marking maps and ravaging towns and villages. As they ventured the word of their presence moved along with them. Their spree was quickly catching up to them requiring a drastic change in tactics. Too many had noticed an 'old couple' moving about strangely and disappearing after the deaths had been discovered. The resources they now required were growing more and more costly and elaborate.

The raining season had come to the Land making careful movements more difficult.

Entering a small soggy port town bitter and soaked through to skin they made a discovery that shook them to the core. They had been seen by a witness and the description matched them quite accurately. This new knowledge would throw the worlds of Elf and Man into an uneasy state of unrest to the point of outright war. No longer would the lines between races be obscure, now there was no distinction and no elf would be safe. The reign of terror from two had thrust both their race and that of their enemy into deep seeded prejudice and mistrust that would take decades to undo once it took a firm hold.

## Chapter 18

The two years aboard the merchant vessel proved educational and somewhat pleasant. She had earned a place within the crew and began to understand more the ways of Humans and the sea. Some had taken it upon themselves to allow her to assist in their deck duties. Others felt the need to impress with their ability with knots and rope work. All these things helped add to her knowledge of the inner workings of the ship.

As they spoke to her she would copy the words they used. She had become quite fluent in the language of the crew and even adopted some of their mannerisms. Greyy also began to teach a few of the crew her craft in bow fletching and hiding. Her natural ability was not something that could be copied but the general concept was.

The boat was small, comparatively speaking, and used to carry goods and resources to mining towns around the main lands. It was not by any means a deep sea craft and the wide open ocean was far too powerful for them to venture. It was also well known that pirate crews enjoyed terrorizing the larger ocean going vessels. They would certainly be no match for any of the cutthroats lurking in the deep.

Curiosity being one of Greyylene's greatest abilities also was her biggest liability. Most of the crew was happy to answer her barrage of questions or make room for her incessant peering into duties and conversations. Learning was something that helped keep her mind of being so homesick. One dark day found her stealthing into the wheelhouse while the Captain and the Navigator were pouring over maps and sea charts. The stern faces and low hushed tones forced her to lean in closer breaking her hiding place to hear what they said.

Discussing the treacherous waters and plotting possible alternative routes the men pointed and drew on the maps spread out before them. Without breaking stride or thought the Captain leaned over the small table and handed the hidden elf a mug of ale. Sheepish and embarrassed at being discovered she took the mug and moved in a step closer to see more fully the plans they were debating.

After the men had finished their discussion the Captain lowered a glare at the Elf female, and in a voice as quiet as summer breeze but as threatening as a thunderbolt made it very clear if she were to ever sneak in on him again it would be her last act on the world of the living.

After being scolded so deeply she slunk out to her cabin and feigned making repairs to her weapon for something to keep the burning tears at bay. Never before had her curiosity been reprimanded, in fact her parents were quick to encourage her exploration and questioning of things she didn't understand. She was beginning to realize how far from home she truly was, and it made her heart cry for her family. Through hot tears and blurred vision she strung the bow and filled the quiver preparing for a battle she was uncertain would ever come.

## Chapter 19

Duties aboard ship were fairly straight forward, see something needing done, do it. She was still not given an official duty station, but her skills were constantly improving. Many times she assisted others in their jobs as much for practice as for keeping peace. If there was something near an assigned post requiring attention then it had best be completed on the assigned watch or there would be hell to pay. Most of the crew was still uneasy about allowing her near the rails, fearing her unsteady footing would send her overboard. It took the other sailors quite a while to realize her sea legs were well established. Only when her curiosity, again, kicked in did they see her true nature emerge.

She found the top of the main mast a place that held an interesting opportunity to survey her surroundings from a higher vantage. Often at home she would find the highest tree to climb allowing her to see the entire Island Village. The mast offered the same feel as a tree in a good wind.

She became quite adept at climbing the ropes and keeping look out in the crow's nest. Her keen vision and night sight ability proved a great asset on many occasions. She was an expert in picking out pods of sea creatures, other boats or hidden obstacles under the water. Even her land sense of weather patterns proved uncanny and helpful and translated well to the life at sea.

High in the crow's nest the lone elf gazed out over the misty gray waters. There had been an uneasy calm that ran throughout most of the crew for several days, finally the dead calm seemed that it would break.

So still was the ocean that even the normal birds and breaking whales or dolphin pods had disappeared. The entire crew knew something was about to give way and prepared the ship for a storm. Mid way through the watch the sky broke into heavy rains that could be seen for miles. Thick sheets of rain could be seen marching as an army towards the vessel. Greyylene was almost unable to climb down fast enough before the storm over took them full on and with a brute force to make some of the most seasoned sailors jump. Lightning and thunder echoed across the sea and the waves threatened to rip apart the hull. Her nimble fingers and quick even footing assisted in securing sails and riggings so they wouldn't be lost.

Sailors were scrambling across the decks. Orders flew as fast and boisterous as the debris from high winds. The men were being tossed around like dolls by an angry child. One fierce wave blindsided the Captain, who had been trying to secure a cannon rigging. The lines snapped and the cannon became a rolling battering ram across the deck. Quick as light Greyylene swung from the sail riggings to push the unsuspecting Captain out of harm's way. Careening through the air on a line that had looped down and over the mast rigging she made her attempt just close enough to release and continue the journey straight into her target yet missing the mark. In her wild flight several other lines were loosened and making themselves into projectiles. The offending cannon was still rolling back and forth along the deck and when Greyy landed with a heavy thud, the leaded runaway found a resting point pinning her and her leg against the rails. She wasn't crushed outright, but her leg was severely damaged and in immediate need of attention. The Captain, however, never saw the flying elf but only the ropes, he thought that it was mast rigging that had given him such a 'lucky break'.

The storm raged on for several more hours and she remained pinned to the rails and wedged under the cannon. Well after the storm had subsided and clean up was under way it become clear she was missing. The Captain, afraid she had gone overboard, prepared a search party and was going to the wheel house to turn the ship about when he came across her lifeless body stuck in a corner under the offending cannon. Soaked through and in shock her body was pried out from her prison and hauled to the infirmary.

The doctor had received a small amount of training in battlefield medicine and severe breaks in bones were his "specialty". Her leg had been broken in several places making the healing on a ship painful at best. He tried the best he was able to immobilize her leg to allow for a clean heal and kept a careful eye for any infection.

Several hours after she was treated and returned to her cabin the Captain went to visit. He had been informed of her heroic actions and felt compelled to see the damage that could have been his fate. Even though she was still quite undone and weak, she was able to recognize her visitor and respond enough to give a slight smile before falling back into a deep pain ridden sleep.

Even with great healing properties and herbal teas and potions known to her people the mending was far too slow for her restless spirit. Hobbling about the deck searching for something to do that wouldn't interfere with the others she was forced to concede to assisting the cook peeling potatoes and other assorted odd unwanted tasks. The horrible little balls in her hands made her long for her sister's cooking. The sweet herbs and fragrant spices that she added to every day meals were like magic transforming the ordinary to something spectacular. She often wondered how Amadia was and what they would be serving for the evening meal. Her imagination gave her great solace in the tiny space they called a kitchen.

## Chapter 20

Great clouds rolled in like a tidal wave across the land. Storm season would insure crops and fresh water for the residents of the Empire. Most inhabitants would ignore the rains unless the winds and lightning proved too difficult to travel, continuing their daily tasks without any care to being soaked. For the unfortunate Elf couple the angry sky mirrored their own hearts and the rain did nothing to wash away their sorrow or drive for revenge.

Creating a small fire by a cave mouth the outlaw couple forced them into the chore of making a meal. Meat from small animals was normally a delicacy and enjoyed at the family table with piles of vegetables from the garden. The daughters would giggle and joke as they prepared the meals for the family filling the home with joy. The memory was bittersweet gouging deeper into the couple's hearts as they prepared a joyless meal alone in an unfamiliar land on an unholy mission.

They sat in the low light around a heatless fire eating a meal they could barely taste. In the darkness images and visions began to dance in the shadows showing their missing daughter. A silent scream in the deafening seas framed the face of their beloved child in agony thrusting deeper the anger in their hearts. Longing to be with her child in the time of dire need Greyy's mother cried herself to sleep hugging her knees to her chest staring at the shadows that reminded her so vividly of her task.

Greyylene's Father sat at the entrance to the cave gazing out across the soaked darkness. The wicked plot forming in his mind touched by love for his daughter began to churn in his chest like a dagger. The fire that burned deep in his being was already beginning to consume his mind. Even the devotion to his wife paled in comparison to the hate eating at his spirit.

The sound of rolling thunder shook the earth ending in a blazing display of lightning that lit the night like the day. At the edge of the forest the Father saw the image of a tall figure dressed in long robes faintly outlined by the torrent. There was a soft glow from the Heart of the figure that seemed to radiate from deep within him. With the next burst the figure was gone as if the forest had swallowed him. A moment passed but the eerie image of the figure was burned into the mind of the Elf fugitive.

## Chapter 21

Cooking for large groups had never been too much of a problem for either Greyylene or Amadia. The village where they grew up would often have community meals with the responsibility falling on one different household each time. The girls were constantly making new things with herbs and spices, experimenting with combinations of foods, beverages, tastes and aromas. They had become quite the envy of the village meals and the turn outs for their culinary event was always much greater than what was thought possible in a population so limited. Knowing the kitchen was almost as second nature as knowing the forest, and the only difference on board the ship was the size of the space.

Tiny cramped quarters often made for heated discussions at best. The rotund ship's cook took the space of two normal sized people and was more than happy to shove his weight where ever he felt the need. His disgust at being forced to work with "The Elf", as he would call her, showed clearly at his treatment of her. Even with her injury healing nicely he would arrange for a dangerous work place with the purpose of bringing her further harm. Frequently he would barge his way into her project solely to knock things around or be in the way of her finishing the task.

One particularly steamy and volatile day he came, and allowing his pants to drop well below accepted norms, stood in front of her with his bare ass square in her face. Finding a mighty joke in allowing one of the most foul and juicy flatulence escape his bared bottom to the food she was preparing, she responded with the blade of her onion covered knife to thrust as far into his squishy posterior as it was able. The sting of the onion along with the relative dull blade sent the offending cook running out on deck with the knife still stuck where it had been imbedded.

When the Captain entered the galley trying desperately to control his hilarious laughter he found the Elf had quite taken over the kitchen and was finishing the rest of the preparations for the meal. Without saying a word the Captain looked around the room watching her hobble from one station to the next with the deft and ease of one who had been raised in the arts of food preparation.

The Captain smiled to himself before turning around to exit. After the meal had been served and was well on the way of being cleaned he came again, this time with the offended chief cook in tow. Expecting to have a grand spectacle of a reprimand for the offending elf the cook stood full in the door, arms crossed and a smug look on his chubby face. However, the proclamation made caused the cook to faint and Greyylene to laugh out loud.

"I say, here and now, for the duration of the time needed to heal your leg that you will be chief in charge of this here galley and that this fat ass bloke will be Your assistant. Keep him away from any food and the crew will be eternally in your debt. And with that he turned and walked away.

## Chapter 22

It seemed only a few days to the crew that the new Cook had taken over the galley, in reality it had been several weeks. The meals that came from the kitchen made many of the men quite homesick for girlfriends, wives and mothers left behind. Her prowess in the culinary arts turned the mundane into a special event that the crew anticipated nightly. Not only had Greyy earned a place as a deck crew mate, but she had also made quite the name for herself in her cooking, much to the dismay of the former Chief Cook.

One of the understood tasks as a ship's cook was to make sure the Ale and Rum was well stocked. To run out of the life blood of the crew would be an offense worthy of walking the plank or, if conditions were right, being keel hauled. After sending the former cook after a keg of ale, Greyy noticed that he had been gone far too long and went to investigate. What she found sent a blood boiling rage through her that made the offensive troll to sober immediately on seeing her. Rounding the backside of a rope ladder into the hold, she almost tripped on the slumped inebriated body of her errand boy. He was sent to bring up a keg of ale but instead of doing so dug into the rum and was drinking it as fast as he could wrap his lips around the keg spout.

Apparently every time she had sent him on any errand for retrieving items for meals he would also partake of a jug or two for himself. He had been so insulted by being deposed that he had taken his frustrations on the reserves of rum and ale. It had been a good two weeks at least that he had been exacting his form of justice on the new cook, but now the consequences would be more than he had anticipated.

The immediate "problem" was the idiot that lay at her feet. Retrieving the First Mate to assist her in moving the rotund obstacle, they secured him to the main mast to dry out. In her fury she pulled the ropes tight allowing them to dig into the offending cook's sagging flesh. The bob and weave of the ship on the waves made the prisoner heave soiling himself repeatedly. Sea air and the waves added to his stench as he began to sober fully realizing his pathetic state.

Finding now that her job as well as her life aboard this ship was in jeopardy Greyylene was forced to find other means of liquid refreshment to appease the sea worn sailors.

She knew her time was limited on being able to brew and distill a suitable replacement. The amount of ale left in the hold was sufficient for a few days and if she were very crafty that would be enough to allow for the process to be complete. It was the difficult moments requiring fast thinking that made her thankful for all the play and experimentation she and her sister acquired. The broad knowledge of herbs and other vegetation proved invaluable as she produced a spiced wine and grog that had a kick that would satisfy the desired kick that the crew would be accustomed. When the crew was asked, several declared that her brew was "better than the old stuff." or "the Elf brew had a bigger kick than what was expected". This was high praise coming from those raised on alcohol.

It was after the first night with the new brew that the old cook came to realize and appreciate her vast skills and knowledge. It had become abundantly clear that she was well versed in a wide range of skills that belied her apparent age. Most of the crew saw her as a young girl barely out of the age of marriage. Only the Doctor knew her true age, and he kept that to himself.

## Chapter 23

Sailing was a lifestyle reserved for those who were hardened and most often without families. Weeks at a time out at sea gave few opportunities to mingle with "civilized people". When large ports of call were in sight the excitement levels on board made for a heady buzz among all the crew. Each sailor would make a list of desired activities and desired cargo.

As they docked the crew swarmed ashore like a thundering herd. Even Greyylene was finally allowed to stretch her land legs a bit. Armed with a list of ingredients and items to share with the crew, the elf meandered with a slight limp through town oblivious to the looks and murmurs behind her.

So long had she been on the deck of her ship that the obvious difference in gender and race had faded into non issues. The town folk, however, saw her and immediately began to talk of the "elf couple terrorizing the countryside". Several of the other crew members heard the chatter and steered Greyy back to the ship.

Losing her privilege to hostile land lovers, she gave her list to the First Mate who filled it for her. He also vowed that he would dig around and find the reasoning for all the hostilities. She had heard that it was due to a couple of renegade Elves but for the life of her she could not imagine any but the Dark Elf society capable of such terror and mayhem. They were known for their ferocity in battle and blatant disregard for life. The Dark Elves were also known for unprovoked attacks.

## Chapter 24

Assisting with stowing new cargo had become her new assigned task, mainly to keep her off the deck and away from accusing eyes. Regardless of the fact she had not been sailing long, her uncanny way of seeing space and filling it was an asset as well as an annoyance. Most of the crew would throw items any which way in the hold, anything to keep the balance yet still enjoy shore leave.

To her, maintaining ballast was not the only goal, but also a way to keep track of inventory. There needed to be a way to know accurately what was stored. The task that normally would have taken only an hour or two at the most, took most of the day with her "supervision". Finding that her help was becoming restless she sent them topside and decided to proceed on her own. Most of the heavy items were stored already leaving the smaller things requiring easy retrieval for the front of the storage lockers. Left alone for the remainder of the task of stowing cargo she was able to take full inventory of all that had been brought aboard and was finally able to set menus for future meals.

## Chapter 25

Long into the night she heard commotion, figuring it was from the rest of the crew she ventured up the narrow step ladder. Barely lifting the cover to the hold she knew something was horribly wrong. The smell of gun powder and burnt rope filtered through the fog and smoke. The hatch was torn from her hand and she was lifted with such force she thought she was in flight. Quickly disarmed of her quiver and bow she was bound and dragged to a tall harsh looking man. He seemed to be the leader of the invading band and his demeanor gave all indication that he was feared not for respect but ferocity.

His back facing her all she could see were rows of long dark braids adorned with shells and coins and tied with thin leather straps, a faded blue skull cap tied at the base of his neck and a tri-corn hat covered the top of his head. The dark blue long tailed top coat was sea worn but tailored to hug his form giving him a menacing aura. The edge of a cutlass could be seen peeking from the split in the hem of his tails and a leather bull whip was hooked at his hip. He wore boots that came up just past his knee and fastened with shiny buckles.

"I hear ye be a cook, wench!" he barked not bothering to look at her, his tone so gruff it made her jump.

"Cook wench?" she said rather puzzled never before having been referred to in that manner she was unfamiliar with the term. Her response brought a heavy hand across her jaw causing a searing light to surge through her head. No other comments were made before she was thrust to the deck and tied to the main mast.

The tall Pirate paced the deck that was now gathering more of the old crew.

"Giv'n ye One time an One time only t' state intentions. Ride wit' me o take ye'r chance in de tides." He said as he pointed over the rails to a waiting dingy.

Several of the crew took a stand, preferring to let the tides decide their destiny rather than run with a pirate crew, the Captain, Second, and the Cook included. She also was going to go with them, but the Pirate had already made plans for her, and gruffly forced her back to the deck.

Watching the Pirate Captain toss Greyy like a rag doll infuriated the Doctor but he remained calm trying to devise a plan in which he would be able to remain with her. When the thought struck him as hard as the Pirate's strike on the Elf he jumped to his feet and pranced over to where Greyylene had landed shrilling like a little girl.

"Oh ever so unfortunate ye be Missy!" The Doc cooed over her. Mustering up all his nerve he leapt to his feet and began to skip and hop around the deck blathering like a town fool in the most flamboyant display of sailor femininity he was able to pretend. His scene threw off the balance of the Pirates who were appalled but amused at the prancing pony that circled the deck inspecting the new crew.

With a slight nod the Pirate Captain gathered the Doc with Greyy and held them to the rails together. He was determined to keep the prize of the cook and hoped that the other fellow was not going to be a mistake.

Once those who were loyal to the Captain were bound together and set adrift a low baritone could be heard across the waves singing sailing songs that were standard fare on dark lonely nights. The wicked glimmer in the eye of the Pirate fiend gave little warning to his next actions. Taking an arrow from her quiver, wrapping it in cloth torn from her shirt and dipping it in oil he set it ablaze before notching it in her bow and releasing the flaming torch straight to the middle of the dingy.

The bound crewmembers tried in vain to dump the dingy in order to extinguish the flames. The arrow was true and lodged in the Captain's heart killing him and setting him ablaze in one fluid motion. Each man in turn was set on fire by the man next to him. The song turned into panic and then into terrified screams of agony. Sitting starring in horror at the maniacal act before her, tears streaming down her face all she could think was how much she wished to be home.

## Chapter 26

Days later when the shock and horror had quieted but the image of her former Captain still firmly planted in her mind the Pirate captain came to Greyylene and the Doc. He ripped them from the location where they were bound and dragged her by the back of her shirt to the galley. Reaching the kitchen he untied their hands and threw the pouch of ingredients she had acquired in town at her feet. They were locked in the galley without word or order. Left alone still numb from the previous day's encounter she limped about the kitchen out of rote memory preparing a meal for her new crew. The Doctor who was out of his element yet capable in the galley tried to help without getting in the way as best he could.

At the end of the meal she and the Doctor were returned to her cabin and locked in to spend the night pondering what the sinister Pirate Captain would devise for them next. They were roomed together with little thought or concern that there would be any "extra trouble" between them considering the doctor was assumed to be uninterested in females. The pirate crew felt it would be safer for them and the doc if he were locked up safely with the cook. The lack of rooms added to the notion that sharing a space was necessary.

Another week or so passed with the same routine. She would be summoned from the bed chamber along with her kitchen assistant and lead straight to the galley to prepare food for those who had over taken the ship. Each day the Pirate Captain would lay a glare across her that felt as though it would set her ablaze. He spoke infrequently but when he did it was gruff and demanding.

## Chapter 27

Waking to a stormy sea and a low moan, she began another day that promised to be moody and drab. Dressing and awaiting their escort to the kitchen they stood at the door. The one who unlocked and entered was not one of the deck hands, but the Captain himself. He entered and closed the door behind him. Motioning with his hand for them to sit he began to pace the small quarters. Her nerves on edge she watched him preparing for the worst scenario possible.

"Ye t'inkin me a cutthroat, n t'at be as I wants it." he said rather matter of fact. "Truth be, Imlookin' fer a new crew, n want'n ye bot' on it." Looking over the obvious stunned and dubious reaction he continued. "Ye 'fearin I set ye ablaze as with the others o ye'r crew. T'atbe an unfortunate act necessary to be say'n what needs be said." he continued to explain more and more of how he came to the position he now held.

The end of his story Greyylene and the Doctor sat stunned and bewildered with no other course of action than to accept his offer of becoming a working crewmate for his new ship.

"I'll take your offer on the condition that I get to keep Doc." She said matter of fact.

With the details settled the Pirate Captain locked them together and opened the door. They were lead to another ship in irons under the pretense that Greyy would be the Captain's "personal cabin boy", to which most of his crew scoffed thinking of all the ways they would use a "personal cabin boy" like her.

## Chapter 28

Having been kept so long in the cabin and below deck Greyy was never really aware what sort of crew she found herself. Finally on deck allowing the salt breeze to whip in her hair once again she took note that they were far from any land. All that could be seen in any direction was sea and sky. Piercing the horizon like a javelin tip appeared a tall three mast ship riding the waves and coming straight for them. On instinct she called out "Ship to the Starboard Bow!" long before the watchman in the crow's nest even saw it. This amazed the Captain but he gave no indication he even noticed her.

The flag that unfurled as the ship drew close was black with a bleeding dagger held in the teeth of a skull. The answering flag hoisted was similar in nature adding crossed arm bones beneath the skull. The realization set that she was aboard pirate vessels of a rather notorious band of outlaws known simply as Crimson Daggers.

Stories of this crew had been told over meals and flasks of ale from the first time she had joined the cargo crew. The Crimson Daggers were renowned for their ruthlessness and stealth. They would sneak up on ships that were at port and while the crew was ashore would quietly take refuge in corners and holds until they were back out at sea then they would attack and take over the ship. In some instances they would sail through thick fog banks and not give any indication they were close until at the very edge then attack. They attacked with a ferocity that always caught the victim by surprise leaving the unsuspecting crew defenseless and unable to return fire before becoming completely overrun.

Pulling alongside one another the Dagger ships, a Bergantina and a Brig, the crews set gangplanks across the rails so the Captain and some of the crew of the Bergantina could cross over for a meeting and to exchange mates. Being yanked along by another of the crew, the Elf was taken to the new ship and tossed unceremoniously into the Captain's office the door locked behind her. Once again her view was limited to what could be seen from the small windows of the cabin. When the Captain returned and without a word of explanation he placed a silver arm band around her upper arm firmly stating that she was his "property" and ensuring her safety as well as branding her a Pirate.

## Chapter 29

After the exchange of ships and crew, Greyylene was summoned to the private quarters of the Captain. He along with several others had gathered pouring over a recent bit of news.

It had come to light that the port authorities were looking for any and all information concerning an Elf couple who had become a running terror throughout the Human villages. They were considered armed and dangerous and a bounty of a thousand gold pieces for each had been set. They were wanted dead or alive.

This affected Greyy because of the nature of her race. She would bring unwanted attention or great notoriety to whatever crew she was assigned. The meeting that was called was to draw lots as to who would eventually be 'stuck' with the renegade elf. Her captain lost the draw and she was to remain with him. This suited her quite well, but the thought running in her mind concerned the "Elf couple" of whom they spoke.

Always at the back of her mind the thoughts of home and her parents lingered. Often she wondered what had become of the rest of her beloved family. This news gave her an uneasy feeling deep in her gut and she feared that her parents may very well be the ones they spoke of in such vicious awe. It seemed odd to her that Pirates of such legendary ruthlessness would find a simple Elf couple so inspiring. But if the stories she heard were true it would stand to reason that pirates would find them amusing if not educational.

## Chapter 30

A lazy port town, dusty and full of grime and the smell of old fish woke to greet a day as gray and miserable as its own ill kept streets. At the far end of the washed out road stood a couple, tall and elegant and completely out of place. Their long hooded cloaks made of fine silk and linens covered their heads but allowed their wealth to show.

They strode together with a gait that belonged to the ancients, yet tall and proud as they towered over most of the other villagers they passed. There was an air of mischief that surrounded them as they surveyed the town.

Across town, on a course that mirrored the tall couple, stood a Monk in a long brown robe of simple wool and an air of calm assurance as he prepared for his next mission. His stride was easy and sure as he strode down the middle of the street nodding to people as he passed. His long staff made a slight indentation in the soft earth beneath his feet. The amulet he wore around his neck glowed soft hues of pale gray that matched the sky and the general mood almost perfectly.

As he approached the couple the amulet began to shift in hue, darkening with an almost sinister glow. The Monk's broad smile greeted the couple as if they were long lost friends. The embrace he gave them both showed the town there was nothing more to fear but took the couple completely off guard.

"Peace, my friends. Go in Peace." He whispered into their ears. "This town has seen enough terror for today." He said as he nodded towards the docks.

Above the roof tops the mast of a Corvette could be seen, its colors flying proudly in the sea breeze. The black flag emblazoned with a Crimson Dagger gripped by skeletal fingers showed the amount of trouble the town had seen.

With a nod and wrapping his arms around the couple turning them from their course he led them back the way they had come.

"I know nothing of your mission here, but I do know this path will not give you the solace you seek." He stated matter of fact as he released them at the edge of town. He then turned to disappear into the forest.

The couple was dumbfounded at the interaction with the Holy Man, yet did not argue or return to the town. It was the first time in their two year rampage that anything of this sort had happened. The Omen he presented to them was clear and the fact he knew them was unsettling, but they chose to continue on a path that wrapped around the town and out a back path towards other larger and less tormented settlements.

Another set of eyes gazed down from a tall tree watching the exchange between the couple and the Monk. The soft lavender eyes glowed with a sinister sheen almost disgusted by the Monk's actions. He released a light huff as he dropped from his perch to continue following the couple. As he left he made a note to keep watch for the meddling Monk.

## Chapter 31

Being new to the crew, an Elf and the only female in the midst of a bunch of stinky male sailors Greyylene stood out like a shiny new coin. Greyy went about her tasks aboard the ship like any other crewmember, although at times she found herself having to compete for position in the ranks. Occasionally her feminine charms were a benefit and at other times were quite a liability in gaining the trust and respect of the other crewmates. When the crew settled into her ways and manners most of the awkwardness faded.

There were always moments when one crewmate would be the brunt of some joke or teasing. It had become a matter of principle and ship pride to cause the Elf discomfort or embarrassment. She was not easily embarrassed and eased into their rudeness with the grace and charm of her race earning some degree of respect among most of the deck crew.

The fact that the Elf had thick skin eased the mind of the Doc. He had been concerned that this new crew was far gruffer than that of the merchant ship. His fears were unwarranted and after watching her return some good jabs it became a habit to watch with amusement as she defended herself with a wit and wisdom that left some of the sailors embarrassing themselves more than her.

Any average crewmate had jobs that were clear and defined. Those who work hard earn a place to be heard and respected. The close quarters either make for a difficult voyage or one that is seamless as a well-tuned machine. Strength of will counts as deeply as physical strength, and Greyy had earned a place of respect for her tenacity and dogged determination not to be "out manned". The Captain would stand at the aft castle and watch as the crew interacted with the tall female. In her own way she would drive the men harder to keep up with her, while she tried to keep up with them.

## Chapter 32

Greyylene was also known to be something of a grand accomplice in pranks and other mischievous confrontations giving her a name with the crew as a joker. In order to pass time when seas were calm the crew would often tease one another. When a prank required more than one accomplice Greyy was always called in to assist. Her ease of movement and ability to hide in plain sight made her the perfect choice. She also proved to be very difficult for retaliation.

No crewmember was safe from Greyy and her antics, not even the Captain. There was a time when the Captain had to remove Greyy from the kitchen for the sake of the crew's sanity. Her "experiments" in culinary designs would take a sinister twist when jokers were found. Once a ring of jokes began it was next to impossible to stop them until they ran their course, which was usually brought about by some act of God and the violent seas. Most often the crew would be somewhat thankful for stormy seas.

Along with jokes and pranks; filling down time on board consisted of sharing stories, songs and folklore from the different lands represented by the crew.

Elvin folklore became almost as interesting as retelling of wicked stories involving the Empirical Navy. The Pirates and the Navy were not friends to say the least. Any opportunity to harass and torment the Navy was seen as a very good day.

Shore leave on a Pirate vessel was much the same as any other sailing ship. The most popular places in town were taverns, pubs and brothels. Stiff drinks and occasionally a hot bath were necessary luxuries. Most pub owners knew to keep an eye out for not only the Pirates and privateers but also the Guards or the Navy. It only took a few visits to local pubs or taverns and names become family, until the authorities enter then everyone became a stranger.

The spunky Elf would saunter into the tavern in Admiral's Cove, such as was her standard routine, along with her small entourage of fellow crewmates and coconspirators in jokes. She was well known for her hell fire tendencies and she was unwise to cross. Small in stature, for an Elf yet tall to Human standards, she had a low tolerance for the brutish idiocy that comes with drunken sailors and lazy townspeople. She would be more than happy to pin a sorry hide to the wall just as soon as look at them. In this manner she had set herself apart from other Pirate crewmates and earned a reputation of being as hardnosed and ruthless as any other who claimed the name "Pirate".

## Chapter 33

A particularly restless night gave evidence there was something a bit off center. A full moon lit the night sky and distant storms brought an uneasy feel in its wake. The tavern was full to the rafters with brutes and villains of all sorts, even some of her crew was there. Every place was jammed elbow to elbow, save one corner occupied by a hooded Monk. Shoving through to the bar she asked the keeper what the problem was. His response was a little more than a surprise.

"'ello, Bud, whatsgoin on with the Monk fella?" she asked

"ooh 'im. 'e caused quite a stir a bit ago. Seemed Kegan the Mad there meant to make some trouble fer the lad. Meandered hisselfo'r to start a thing o two ended up gitt'nhisself knocked clean across tha room, 'e did indeed."

Looking over to the large red headed brute, who was sulking in the corner rubbing a sore arm and looking a bit dazed, she ordered her drink plus an extra one and wandered over to the stranger.

Kegan the Mad was an ox of a man who stood towering over all the other crewmates, including Greyylene. He was built like a house and had the temper of a serpent. He was often called in to settle disputes that required brute force and sheer strength. He was loyal to a fault and had a smile as big as all outdoors. His feats of strength were legendary and his presence commanded any space he happen to occupy.

She knew all too well to have someone that could best the sort of fellow like Kegan the Mad as an ally would be much better than to have him as an enemy. Setting the drinks on the table in front of the Monk she sat without waiting for invitation.

"What business ya got here, Monk?" She asked rather abruptly bordering on rude.

"Actually, ma'am, I came to see you. I was lead to believe that you would be able to grant safe passage back to the main land. That is where I seek to travel." he said matter of fact and without any notice to her harsh tone.

"It haint for me to decide on ye'r passage, safe or otherwise, that's fer Capt'n to decide. I tell ya true it won't be free!"

"Oh no ma'am I fully intend to pay for your trouble. And I am most certain you could arrange for my acceptance aboard your fine vessel." he said drawing out a pouch full of gold coins.

"Ya will need give me an hour before we ready to set sail. Then at the tide change we'll go. I'll meet ye back here in one hour, if ya late I leave ya behind." She said as she stood to go.

## Chapter 34

Meeting the Doc for a rather wicked task they had planned proved to be something of a funny adventure. The two jokers had gone out to the swamplands with buckets and pails fully intending to load the Navy Bath House with tadpoles and minnows. It was well known that the Navy would commandeer any establishment they deemed fit for whatever use they felt necessary.

The sweet smelling waters with their pretty little flowers and oils would be perfect for showing the Navy "local hospitality". Keeping close to the outside wall of the bathhouse they snuck in through a small opening behind one of the changing rooms. The houses were generally used only on weekends, and this being the middle of the week it should have been empty.

There was no way of knowing that the local Provisioner and his mistress were spending an intimate rendezvous in the same waters that were about to be invaded. Greyylene and her accomplice saw the couple but decided to proceed knowing that it would be a grand story to share later.

The Elf's slight frame and nimble fingers were perfectly suited to slide her slimy catch into the murky waters of the couple's bath. Several minutes passed before it was realized there was any problem. By the time the joke was discovered the pranksters had finished their task and were well on the way back to the tavern.

Staying to the shadows and the sides of the streets, hooded and desperate to remain concealed they were surprised to hear the ruckus careening towards them. Greyy turned just in time to see the shop keeper's wife step out from the doorway and watch as her husband and his mistress came screaming from the bath house, Naked!

"Get IT OFF!! GET IT OFF!!" The mistress was running and flailing along as if set on fire all the while screeching at such levels as to wake the dead.

It appeared that one of the tadpoles had haplessly gone too close to her skin and stuck fast to her back. She was in such a hurry to vacate the premises that she left all her clothing behind, as did her suitor.

## Chapter 35

Almost back at the tavern the escaping duo turned and almost ran headlong into the Monk from earlier. Quick as lightning his arm moved her from almost mowing him down to straight way behind him. It seemed as though he past right through her. Turning to look at him she expected to see a sinister glare, but what she saw was him doubled over in hilarious laughter. Shocked at his response, more because it was figured a 'holy man' would be offended at such display of nudity, both pranksters stood in stunned silence watching what would happen next. Apparently he appreciated the joke far more than taking the offense.

When much of the commotion had subsided the three wandered back to the tavern to let the 'townies' figure out the ruckus. The Monk walked along at a most leisurely pace with his hands buried deep in his sleeves.

With no other comments made by anyone he said, "Who would ever bother to stop two considerate citizens assisting an old Monk to a destination?"

And with that they continued on their way back to the tavern, slightly chuckling at the utter chaos left behind them.

The ominous hush that greeted every visitor lifted as they were announced. The Monk, the Doc, and Greyy had become instant heroes of the pub. Their names would forever be spoken with awe and hilarity. The Doctor was on his last voyage with the pirate crew and was hoping to exit gracefully and without incident. Greyylene, however, would have nothing of slipping away into the quiet. She insisted on setting his name high on the list of favorite sons. The prank on the bath house was just the boost he needed to go down in infamy.

Kegan the Mad was still nursing his wounded pride when they entered.

"Oh come now, Kegan! Get o'reyerself. Drink an ale and light'n up!" Greyy quipped as they past his seat.

Several things Greyy noticed about the Monk as they made way to their table. The first was the Monk's silly grin; the second was the glowing stone hanging from a leather strap around his neck. The other thing that gave her cause to wonder was the wide birth those in the tavern gave them. It seemed that the Monk had a reputation and she was determined to learn it.

"Alright, Monk, what is your name and what did you do to Kegan?" She demanded.

He settled into a chair with his back facing the crowd, uncorked his bottle and took a long pull from it.

"What no glass?" she queried?

Shaking his head no and still drinking straight from the bottle, they sat waiting until he was finished.

"My name, m'lady, is Sir Gilead. I come from the East from a land named Ur. I am of an Order of Wanderers and study the ways of healing powers and properties. As for your associate there, well, he was a bit unruly and felt the need to attack a "defenseless" Monk for sport. I was compelled to alter his thinking." He said with a bit of a smirk, returning to the bottle.

His speech and the short tale made her laugh outright. When she caught the eye of Kegan all Greyy could do was laugh and wink at his embarrassment.

## Chapter 36

All through their drinks it was painfully apparent that the patrons were not interested in coming anywhere near the Monk or those who associated with him. There was a significant gap in the mass of bodies pressed close in the tavern. Those who frequented this establishment were known for their cutthroat ways and violent tendencies. The fact that many were shoulder to shoulder and not complaining was a testament to the degree of avoidance they wished to observe for the infamous Sir Gilead.

As Greyy finished her drink she became fascinated watching the colors of the Monk's amulet change from shades of dark gray to red back to an oily black depending on which patron happened to be near. She reached across the table to see what color the amulet would turn in her presence and was surprised at the faint blue that surfaced.

More than a little taken aback she stood with a nod slamming her mug on the table preparing to return to the ship. As she walked the 'gauntlet' of cat calls and lewd remarks, the saunter took on a more "feminine" sway and without looking back she gave a little wave over her shoulder.

Greyylene was first to board and strode directly to the Captain in order to arrange permission for the Monk to journey with them. She felt his safety would be in jeopardy if he were to board a Pirate vessel. Not many would willingly accept passage with a crew full of cutthroats and brigands. Sir Gilead had assured her he would be fine so she complied with his request. Once all the crew had returned they set sail and began their three day voyage to the next port.

## Chapter 37

Omens and superstition were common aboard most sailing vessels regardless of size or captain. To have a female was more often than not said to be ill fortune and to have any sort of "holy man" was thought to be far worse. For the crew of the Crimson Dagger's "Terror of the Seas" neither the female nor the Monk seemed to matter.

The crew had discovered that even the most routine trip was lightened by the song and story brought out by Greyylene. The Monk added a delightful perspective to the things he witnessed. When asked for his version of the prank on the bath house his unceremonious mocking of the hapless couple sent the entire crew into spasms of riotous laughter. The Captain too was driven to tears and hearty laughter. Long into the night the sounds of revelry could be heard echoing across the waves.

More than one time Greyylene noticed the Monk sitting in a corner sipping ale and watching her. He would toast her at times when she caught him looking. Curious as to his true intent she meandered across the deck to confront him of his overt spying on her, but drawing close she would catch the pendant he wore change colors. She was not often taken off guard by an unusual item, but this devilry had the feel of something much deeper than she was prepared to acknowledge.

## Chapter 38

Only a few days aboard the ship and Sir Gilead had made quite the impression on several of the men, and it's only female. He was easy to speak with and several found themselves sharing things deep in their hearts that none would begin to think a sea hardened Pirate to share. Even the mighty Kegan the Mad was found slumped over an old barrel shaking in hard weeping with the Monk standing near offering a comforting word. This act alone kept Greyy far from the Monk's presence. She would skirt as far around him as was possible aboard a cramped vessel, until finally he was gone, at least for the moment.

Pulling into any harbor sent a wake of nervous energy through the town and a buzz of the trill of a new town to rampage through the decks of the Pirate ship. As soon as the colors of the Crimson Dagger Pirates were shown streets cleared. Pulling into port of a small village between Dragon's Watch and Wayfair the crisp clean air carried the aromas of berry pies and meat stews. As the crew disembarked some were unable to help themselves but to smile at the delicious scents wafting on the wind like leaves.

The presence of Sir Gilead immediately calmed the uneasy feel generally shared by the town's people. The amulet he wore shone a bright happy blue. When other Pirates passed him in the streets the amulet remained the same color. The obvious show of peace added to Greyylene's cautious curiosity.

## Chapter 39

Taking the road out of town Sir Gil continued on his "mission". Greyy stood at the corner of the small tavern in the midst of town watching as he vanished into the forest mist. When she turned back towards the tavern the happy glow of the town seemed to vanish with the Monk.

The more towns they harbored the more apparent it became that Greyylene was not only an outlaw by association with Pirates but also by Race. The Elf couple that had ravaged so many towns and villages had seeded the population with a deep prejudice. For her being part of the crew of the carrack "Terror of the Seas" gave many ample excuse to fear and loath her. The reputation of their vessel along with its Captain, Kerrs Redgrave was enhanced by her presence.

Kerrs was thrilled at the bonus feature to their vicious reputation by having the "Unlucky Female" on board. He would venture at times in nick naming her his lucky charm then chuckle at himself at his own joke. The terror from the renegade couple was of little concern to him, the outcome in added reputation was sufficient to endear them to him.

Nights turned to weeks, and weeks to months as the "Terror of the Seas" continued on a path of wanton destruction and chaos. Kerrs was trying to match the mayhem on land with his own terror on the seas. He felt that His Elf had a reputation to claim and he was going to help her attain it.

## Chapter 40

The Pirates were known for vicious attacks on other ships. Most of the time they didn't bother to care how big or small the vessel was, so long as it held the promise of value it was fair game. Those ships that were unwanted would be rammed and bombarded to the point of capsizing before being raided and the crew slaughtered in a massive display of hand to hand ruthlessness.

The Captains of the boats taken would be tied to the main sail and either set ablaze or simply allowed to go down with the ship as it sank to the bottom of the ocean. Any of the overrun crew that resisted after the battle ended would join their Captain at the main sail and share his fate.

With each life ruined and each vessel raided a piece of Greyylene was chiseled away and left like chum in the wake of the grand ship. The nights of revelry and joyous pranks began to fade in the darkness of violence. She still had mischievous tendencies but her soft heart became a walled fortress blocking emotions from escape.

Her cold heart transformed her into an outstanding and ruthless pirate, but broke the inner softness of being a woman. Unparalleled in her fierce aggressive attacks on other ships she sunk or wrecked as many of the vessels as she helped to take. More often than not she would need ordered to stand down or have Kegan the Mad toss her over his shoulder so focused on the fight all other dangers paled around her.

## Chapter 41

Preparation for raids or battles each crew had their assigned task and location on deck, or in the case of Greyylene high above the deck. Sitting on the top arm her bare feet entwined in rigging and her back against the mast she fletched arrows and strung bowstrings. She along with the watch in the crow's nest would keep watch for ships on the horizon.

When the call would go out for battle stations she would press her body flat against the mast hiding behind its bulk. As the ship would draw near to its target she would unleash a volley of flaming arrows. She was quickly dubbed the "secret weapon" by crew and her Captain.

The 'secret weapon' would fly arrows where normal cannons could not reach. Typically the pirates would attack larger ships. The smaller faster carrack would maneuver into position, hiding the elf, and tossing out cannon fire in a half hearted attempt to look intimidating. When the enemy would retaliate the smaller cannon fire would be replaced by opening hatches for much larger guns that would fire longer distance with larger ammunition.

By the time surprise was fully set in the call of "Fire on Deck" would echo across the water as a barrage of flaming arrows would be seen soaring through the sky toward the sails. At night the blazing launch would strike the fear of the gods into the hearts of sailors on both crews. No sailor wants a fire aboard. By the time the fires were extinguished the battle would be over, the crew taken prisoner or set adrift and the cargo stowed or transferred.

Each battle won and ship taken earned Greyylene a place of respect. She had garnered a loyal following of fellow Pirates and together they formed a small elite team of ruthless cutthroats. Quickly she was earning a reputation of being as wicked as she was beautiful and her Siren charms had been honed into a fine instrument of destruction.

Her skills in battle as well as the ability to rally the deck crew to a common cause earned her promotions in rank with Captain Redgrave. Serving as second mate gave her the authority to be unspeakably ruthless in ports of call, all in the name of the "Terror of the Seas". The plunder she found and the secrets she extracted from unsuspecting naval officers proved useful to the Captain, if not marginally unsettling at the ease in which she gained the trust of men.

With the rise of Pirate activity and the threat of the deadly Elf couple most of the port towns were housing more Guards. Assuming that heightened presence of Empirical Authority would deter further violence town officials was eager to house the colorful Guardians of the Crown. In theory the idea was sound, in practice it became a game to the outlaws.

## Chapter 42

Far across the turbulent seas and tortured lands of Men on the small island that was once called Home to Greyylene and her Parents another glorious day full of life and song spread its arms to embrace the sky. Snug in the home she was raised and out of the way of prying eyes and plundering pirates Amadia made her way through life abandoned by her family.

The void left in her heart after her parents left plunged the Elf Maiden into a dark time many thought she would never recover. Her days flowed by in a fluid motion of time and space blurring together. She became ambivalent of things that had once carried a great deal of interest and joy. Her heart broke at the thought of what may have happened to her sister. Bitter tears fell at the thought of her parents leaving without her.

Every so often a glimmer of peace would shine through her despair as she would fall asleep under a star lit sky thinking of Greyylene and where she may be. Others were certain Amadia's sister was long dead, but deep in her core she knew that was not the case. A soft glow often broke into her reverie and stole her back to a time when they were together. In the moments when she could grasp the vision of her family it was possible for the soft spoken child be able to accomplish the simple tasks she set for herself.

## Chapter 43

Others in the village tried to assist in the adjustment to being alone forcing her to interact with neighbors and friends. The desire was not available but her instincts said it was necessary, as she moved about her life as if in a fog.

She continued to sew beautiful clothing for other village women. Her skill was the envy of Elf communities spreading across mountains and plains far from the quiet little island.

She continued to assist in community meals and her garden was the pride of the Island. Surrounded by so much beauty and the love of her people she was aloof and quietly drowning in her sorrow.

The village Elders felt it necessary that she take a mate, but their law dictated that her Father arrange a match for her. With his absence they took on themselves to select appropriate suitors to send her way.

Most of the men who would call on Amadia were vastly intimidated by her dark presence. Her deep mood was more than most could handle. The deep loss she felt was difficult to fill and even those who knew her well were unable to fully grasp the weight that strangled her heart making it impossible to find joy.

The search for a suitor took an unexpected turn when an unassuming shadow filled her door offering a small basket of food and drink. The tall quiet male also had known great sorrow and loss. His first wife and their only child had been lost in childbirth. He also knew that the simple gesture would be heard far more clearly than any word he could offer.

When he turned to go without making an offer to stay she was puzzled but allowed him to go. Her interest was piqued and her curiosity found a new light in the need to see him again. He was easy to find in such a small community and when she discovered his story matched hers a spark of comfort and familiarity fell into place.

They spent hours each day together not speaking but basking in the warmth and comfort of one another. With passing days and weeks they slowly began to find words to fill the voids, expressing feelings and thoughts allowing for a healing of their souls in a united bond. Soon their thoughts became dreams and plans.

Amadia and Amathar, who lived up to his name as a Beautiful Friend, continued about their daily tasks and duties within the Village. They stole every moment to be near attempting to be quiet about the growing affection that blossomed in their hearts, but the eyes of all the neighbors were firmly planted on the two wounded souls that were finally beginning to see Spring.

It was with a joyous celebration that they announced their engagement to be joined as everlasting mates.

## Chapter 44

It had often been rumored that some ships that were lost at sea were not sunk but taken by Pirates. When former merchant or battle ships would harbor for shore leave or restocking were the rumors confirmed. Some of the overtaken vessels would simply fly new colors and have a new name scrawled over the old one, some were repainted all together.

Crews with new commanders were still recognized in old watering holes and pubs that had been frequented. Some families who had not seen each other for months had been reunited when the victim vessel was "liberated" by Pirates. As a condition for their service the men would be offered the chance to see their wives, girlfriends or mistresses depending on whom they wanted to see more.

Once a ship was commandeered if it was in good condition and desired by any of the invading crew with high rank the Pirate would simply take command. Most often the former captain would be killed outright along with any others who were loyal to him. Once the vessel was securely set as Pirate property a new commander would be assigned. Commands would be given to a favored officer and a replacement crew would be left aboard, colors would be changed and a new name given to the overtaken vessel.

If more than one wanted any given ship lots would be tossed to see who would take the command. If the one requesting won the toss they had their pick of crew to start. Several times Greyy was chosen to be part of a new crew, thus hopping her from ship to ship. Each captain she served would teach her more efficient and better ways of being not only a sailor but a leader.

Moving around in ranks within the clan of the Crimson Dagger Pirates she earned respect from most of the other sailors. More and more she was given tasks with greater authority often named as First Mate. Repeatedly she proved her value in combat and skills of diplomacy and in so doing squelching many on board misunderstandings with minimal bloodshed. Many things that were impossible to teach, she knew naturally.

Often she would fall back to lessons learned growing up in her small village. Riding the treetops to see further out over the horizon gave her a steady balance and keen vision for noticing small oddities at great distances. Ship rigging knots came simply to her, most were variations of what she used to secure twine in hammocks.

Wrestling large land animals helped prepare her for the brutes on board as well as in the sea. Those who knew her were well aware not to mess with the fire brand; those who were new to her wiles found painful lessons learned staring up at the sky or the bottom of her boot. Her tenacity and charisma earned her a voice in the crews on which she served.

## Chapter 45

After one surprisingly successful raid on a corvette Greyy finally earned her right to toss for the command of the three mast sloop of war. It was brightly colored with the banner of the Navy firmly nailed to the main mast.

When it came time to gather her crew those who volunteered to join her was so high in numbers several had to be left off her roster. She had no idea that any command she had would have so many men pawing to serve as crew. It was obvious they wanted to serve with her out of respect and loyalty rather than the cliché of being with a Female Captain. Those who were chosen would become a crew full of individuals who were fierce in their service to their Captain.

Once she took her ship and her crew it was the task to name and set the structure of command. Her first mate was Mr. Donny Porter; the arms master Kegan the Mad. She named her perky but sea worn corvette the "Wailing Siren". The first order of new business was to run the "Wailing Siren" through her paces, and a great pace was set before Captain Greyylene walked to the bow with a broad smile and proud gait.

The greatest liability to her as Captain was the reckless curiosity inherent with her race. The courses she chose were by closing her eyes and pointing to a section of the map. As pirates the crews were not given to exploration unless it meant plunder and loot.

The cold heart that was quickly replacing her once caring demeanor began to sway more and more to the "Pirate Ways", but the curiosity remained firmly planted giving room for glimmers of kindness. Those glimmers of light often were overshadowed by the necessity of keeping the crew satisfied and paid. It was the bloodlust of those who trained her that gave the cruel edge and ruthless manner in her "exploration" of new lands.

Elf cunning and Pirate cruelty gave Captain Greyy an edge. Her abilities to know what the seas and skies were thinking proved invaluable in tracking other ships, and out maneuvering storms.

Her crew became very wealthy in short order. Their plundering tactics, that she tried to keep secret, spread like wild fire through the rest of their Pirate fleet. On the mainland ports word of her steel nerve and ruthless chill would turn hardened sailors into quivering idiots. When her colors would fly the pathetic victim ships would immediately surrender or abandon their vessels. Most of the ships she crossed would be sunk in a grand display of fire and billowing smoke, but occasionally there would be ones worthy of towing back to Pirate lands.

When the "Wailing Siren" would come to Port Redgrave there was always a call for celebration. She rarely returned without some fantastic tale of conquest and adventure. Her crew was notorious in their ability to loot without having anything but fine Ale to show for the effort, but none of the others ever questioned where her crew got their pay or desire to remain with her. When she brought back another ship as the "evidence" of their exploits it would satisfy the "code" of adding to the coffers.

## Chapter 46

Winter fell like a soft blanket across the world of Men. The blood thirsty Elf couple continued to rule the land with violence and heartache. Each town they entered fed their hatred for Humans and the need for something "bigger" to accomplish. The wanted signs they found would become kindling for their evening fire, and towns that held any military presence became an extra challenge. Their killing spree remained with the eldest in the households, but their ravaging ridicule of the military became their play time.

Barracks located in side alleys of the larger towns made for wonderful sport to the malicious couple. They would sneak in between shifts and steal as many uniforms and weapons as possible. When they left the barracks only the slight outline of a footprint could be seen, and that became their signature.

The thieving raid would alter their time schedule only slightly. Collecting the uniforms and stowing them in a slightly shadowed overhang they would continue on their mission. It became the needed comic relief in their dark project to return to the uniforms after the murder. Piling the bright colorful clothing in a neat mound at the center of town they would set the uniforms ablaze. The smoke and fire would create chaos and mayhem covering their escape. Then they would sit outside the city limits and watch the turmoil at their feet.

Authorities grew tired of being embarrassed and out classed by a couple of renegade Elves. The tactic of posting their images had backfired; mistrust and fear ruled the streets and respect for a Military presence had become a joke. Back in the Royal City plans were being devised to bring an end to the reign of terror brought on by the wanton Elf presence. A council had been called for the top military officials to come and bring their best ideas and incentives for drawing out the outlaws and including the general population in retaking order.

## Chapter 47

Several months passed and the weather turned cold since the Monk had been aboard the Pirate's ship. He was confident in the knowledge that he had made an impression on his selected audience.

His desire to track the Other Audience had taken him through several towns and villages as they cleaned the aftermath of the night visitors. With each town he would offer the grieving family as much aid and comfort he was able before continuing his travels. As he left he would offer a supplication on behalf of the devastated community and set a stone at its boundary as a marker of their sorrow.

Strolling through a quiet snow draped town Sir Gilead released quiet prayers of blessing and protection on homes lining the main street. The amulet hanging from his neck shone with a soft blue haze. A light melody keeping time with his footfalls announced his presence as he past.

Without warning his song ended and his footsteps took on urgency. The amulet began to change colors giving evidence to something wicked in the wind. Passing a side street he stopped and peered into the dark shadows as if looking for someone. A moment later he turned and walked back the way he had come, the amulet had taken a sinister red glow as he returned the way he had come.

The Elf couple was certain that the Monk did not see them, but his demeanor suggested otherwise. They waited until he had vanished into the night before moving from their hiding place. Silently they conferred with one another on the path to take. Finally it was decided to travel the opposite direction from the Monk. They were determined to carry out the sinister plan of the evening but had no intention of running into him again.

The snow began to fall again masking the intentions of the strangers in a blanket of white. When the travesty had been completed the Couple returned to their makeshift camp. The snow had erased any evidence of their presence, yet they had not gone unnoticed.

Sir Gilead on one side of town wept in mourning of the great loss to the town. Back in the hidden camp a soft sob broke the snow covered silence. High in a tree peering out over all the events of the night a set of deep piercing lavender eyes shone in the moonlight.

## Chapter 48

It had been almost three years since her grand adventure began. Captain Greyylene peered thoughtfully over the rails as her mind played back the events she had witnessed, the people she met and the world she had seen. The time was closing quickly for her to celebrate another birthday. She would be one hundred and three years according to the calculations of Men, yet she looked to be in her mid twenties, barely older than her newly appointed Navigator.

Henry Frost, a tall sip of whisky with the spirit to match, was the youngest crewmate and the last that Greyy had appointed before taking the "Wailing Siren". His sense of direction was unparalleled. He could find his way to any part of the map and back again without so much as a pause or second glance. His bag of tools confounded his new Captain but he was more than happy to show her how each item was used. He proved to be a gracious teacher not willing to embarrass her in front of the other crew, but quietly demonstrating each instrument with skill and grace far beyond his age.

## Chapter 49

Greyy was a capable Captain and her crew was violently loyal to her. Her aggressive techniques in combat had made them all quite prosperous. They were all eager to continue her rule on board, yet were just as eager for her to show her generous light hearted manners. Most of the men on board saw her as Captain, but occasionally a foolhardy new comer would discover her female curves. Often the discovery would end badly for the poor fool, for she was quick as a flick to ferocious temper and back to charming smile and saucy wink.

Quiet times on the ship were used to ensure the ship was in proper working order as well as having those quiet moments to sleep, do chores, or challenge other crewmates in games of chance and skill. Normally the Captain chose this time to retire to her quarters. Every so often she would steal a moment to inspect the decks for damage or take inventory of supplies.

As she strolled along the deck, kicking soles of sleeping sailors, she heard a low whistle that caught her attention.

"Capt'n, tis a good a time as any to challenge ye to a test o skills." Henry said barely peeking out from under his cap. His voice had a marvelous deep resonance and a slow drawl. The Captain gave a slight grin as she answered.

"A challenge ye say? What sort have ye in mind?"

"Race ye up da ropes n shoot the bullseye back o de poop deck." He said slowly rising to greet her.

The slow smile grew as it crossed her lips. With the challenge the rest of the crew gathered around them.

The challenge was set and the contestants got set to race across the boards to the main sail to climb the ropes up the sails to the first yard arm. The rules were simple; first one to the yard arm to fire at the target on the back of the poop deck and hit it would win the challenge. This was not the first time Henry had made the challenge to another crewmate, but it was the first time any had challenged the Captain.

Greyy tapped Kegan on the shoulder to choose him as "judge". He would start them and determine which arrow hit closest to the center mark. The contestant's arrows were marked by color to make sure a fair outcome was announced before they took their places.

"A count o t'ree." announced Kegan "One, T'o, T'ree! GO!" he yelled.

The deck exploded in cheers as Henry and Greyy ran as fast as they could to the main sail. Greyy's heavy boots made a thundering pound as she raced forward in blatant contrast to Henry's bare feet that barely made a sound. When they reached the ropes they were even, stride for stride. It was the ropes that proved the ultimate enemy in the race.

Greyy's boots proved to be an asset as the thick heel caught between the lines holding fast as she climbed like a monkey in a tree. Once she reached the yard arm her back foot twisted into the lines while her front foot braced on the rope giving her balance. She notched the arrow and let it fly in one fluid motion hitting the target square in the middle.

Henry had a more difficult time on the ropes because they were moist with sea spray and his feet slid across them tangling his legs in the lines. He struggled up as quickly as his long gangly legs would carry him. When he finally got up the ropes he tried to copy his Captain's stance failing miserably. Instead of bracing with his front foot his leg slid through flipping him upside down spilling his quiver of arrows. He had saved one arrow and was trying desperately to notch it in his bow when a movement off the side caught his eye.

"Hey! W'atsDat!" he hollered still hanging upside down in the ropes.

"No good gett'n out o this challenge like dat!" Greyy said looking out the way Henry pointed.

"Ah bloody hell." She muttered notching another arrow.

The twisting writhing trail of the sea serpent was announced by a pod of dolphins. As the creatures drew closer to the ship's hull the excitement on deck rose to a fever pitch.

Normally the playful beasts would frolic in the white ribbons released in the wake of the ship, but these were erratic and in a panic.

"Steady as she goes, boys. These know something more than they be willin to state. Let the devil show its face afore we begitt'n all in a lather." Greyy stated with a cam conviction.

"Snake in de Lake, Capt'n!" came the call from the crow's nest.

"Battle Stations!" The order rang out across the ship just as the slithering form broke the crest of a wave.

Henry was still dangling in the lines by his ankles when the head of the great beast broke the surface. The arrow notched for the competition he let it fly. Gliding through the air like a bird of prey the arrow was true to its course and embedded in the eye of the great serpent. This action infuriated the snake but earned Henry a new nick name, Bullseye.

Singing blades and whistling arrows continued to rip at the great serpent's thick hide until finally it was laying in a bloody mess in the middle of the deck. Pulling the rest of the body aboard it was portioned and separated into rations that would see the crew through for several weeks of meals. Generally a very fishy tasting beast but by adding a few herbs and spices, and an orange or lemon when it was available, along with other assorted ingredients it was almost edible.

As for Henry "Bullseye" Frost, he lost the challenge with the Captain but earned the admiration of the crew with his unorthodox shot. As he returned to duties and assisting in the cleanup of the deck the promise of a rematch was set. The next time he would wear proper shoes so as not to be beat by some Old Girl! The last statement garnered a hearty belly laugh from the entire crew, including the "Old Girl" Captain.

## Chapter 50

Cranky gray and stormy winter skies gave way to vibrant blue of spring. Ocean currents calmed and angry winds melted into soft salt breezes. The sea birds and deep sea creatures began to frolic and play inviting those on board of the "Wailing Siren" to join in the celebration of fresh life.

After a productive trip to the Plucked Duck Tavern and Provisioner the crew reassembled to make way back to sea. Supplies were being loaded; Bullseye and Greyy were plotting the next "salvage" and the sails were snapping under the direction of the wind.

The lilting tunes rumbling from the deep voices of the crew filled the air causing by passers to glance with curiosity at the Pirates as if they were an exhibit at a side show. Not often were public displays of joy seen without the aid of a lot of ale.

The snap of wind in sails and the lapping of waves against the hull brought a smile to Greyy's lips that she had no intention of hiding. Salty sea foam washed over her face and hair, the playful dips and sway of the deck competed with the flourish of activity manning each station as they left port for open water. Sunlight glistened off the white peaks of the waves that broke at the bow to regroup in its wake. The faded vessel was carried on a regal pillow of crystal blue green highlighted with silvery white. The "Wailing Siren" made way to deep waters following the sun and a Navigator as relentless in pursuit of curiosity as the Captain.

As the sun set over the vast watery wilderness it kissed the few clouds with fiery lips setting them ablaze in deep purples, reds and orange before the last dip into the horizon. The velvety deep blue sky littered with stars guided the crew along their chosen path, as the full moon rose looming like a crown jewel in the night sky. Speaking to the ocean the silver orb whispered secrets as if to a lover. Clear sky promised that the next few evenings would be most spectacular.

## Chapter 51

Two days following the sextant coordinates the Pirate vessel had made its way to waters that were full of spawning fish and lively activity for sea creatures of all sorts. Most of the crew was becoming annoyed at having to move slowly through the churning waters.

Patience not being a strong ally to most sailors, the heady excitement of only three days past was quickly turning sour. The full moon glowing across the deck seemed only to add to the irritation rather than soothe it.

"One more day and I know we would either need to find our quarry or I'll be sailing alone on the top of an empty barrel." Greyylene muttered to herself.

Even in the beauty of the nights sky moods and tempers grew progressively ominous. Impatient cutthroats went from hard working crew to an angry mob in the blink of an eye. They were immune to female charms or beauty when all that was in their hearts was plunder and loot. The treasure was their sweetheart and notoriety their satisfaction.

"Me be t'inkin', Capt'n, maybe we be need'n a new crew. One not so likely to keel haul me arsee're I turn me back." said Bullseye as he tip toed around some of the sleeping ruffians.

Chuckling at his observations she was compelled to agree.

"It is a sad lot that can only muster two days before turning ugly and threatening mutiny on its captain." She muttered.

## Chapter 52

The sun once again marking another night survived on a hostile ship rose without fanfare or celebration. There was no other choice than to carry on a steady pace through the thick churning waters. The spawns had come upon them so quickly they were surrounded before there was any clue of the hazard.

Another dipping sunset ushered in a fresh swath of blazing stars to fill the sky. Low and close a shooting star tore across the bow of the ship sending sailors into a quiet panic. Heavenly displays of power and light often brought seasoned sailors to their knees begging for forgiveness from multitudes of ridiculous sins. This instance was no exception.

"Told you to have better respect for your captain." Greyylene quipped.

Almost on cue the moon rose for the third night in a row full and bright. An eerie calm settled over the crew as a shadow began to move across its edge. Those who were close to hear her comment marveled at such an intricate act of celestial support. The night winds became dead and the sea paused its rolling current.

The crew set about their night jobs cautiously watching as the show in the heavens became more spectacular. The shadow that crept close to the moon continued a crawl across its face masking it in a masquerade of quiet reds and charcoal gray. Intensely beautiful with severe doom looming large the dark shadow covered the whole orb. A moment after the silhouette reached the center it lingered before releasing the silver ring of electric elegance completely surrounding the surface. Strained gasps and awed silence emanated from the main deck as the crew watched in stunned silence.

The grand display of lunar splendor made for an intensely uneasy rest for the crew. The dark omens from both a shooting star and an eclipse had the seasoned sailors quaking in their cots. Many were convinced that the ship and its crew was doomed or cursed. As Pirates they knew their actions held consequences but this celestial revelation was deeply disturbing.

## Chapter 53

Not only was the "Wailing Siren" a Pirate vessel but it was also known as a "salvage" ship. Any opportunity to repossess treasure was looked on with favor by the crew. They were well on the way to a suspected treasure when all the night drama had unfolded causing some to question their choice in occupation.

As the new day dawned spirits began to ease, but the heavy anticipation of the previous night had given cause for suspicion and doubt in the current course.

The heavy sense of dread passed quickly when the call to the Captain rang out, they had come to the mark on the map. The wreck they were investigating was rumored to be from the Emperor's taxes. Dropping a lead line it was discovered that the wreck was not too far below them. Sending Mumbo Jumbo, the best free diver on board, over the rails reported that the treasure was a storehouse of unspeakable wealth.

Each time he dove there was something more valuable that teased at what other bounty lie beneath the surface. Finally Mumbo found the big prize and hooked the line to a heavy laden chest. Both securely on deck the loot was sorted and given to the Kegan the Mad, who was acting quartermaster, to divvy amongst the crew. Several thousand pieces of gold along with gems, jewelry, silver place settings, goblets and other finery once belonging to nobles from across the land filled the hold of their new owners.

Each man clearly marked their take of the treasure. The joy of finding the loot they had sought did well to diminish the sense of dread from the night before. Regardless of their success many decided that this would be their last time aboard the "Wailing Siren". There was no argument that the Captain was good, but the evil vexing moon was too much to handle. The celestial event was unmistakable and would not be soon forgotten, by any of them.

## Chapter 54

The clear moonlit sky ushered in a somber sense of dread that was accented by the blazing streak across the inky darkness. The Elf couple knew the night would be memorable but to what extent had not been foretold. Breaking camp they hurried to their next destination with an overwhelming sense of being watched.

A soft snow fall had lightly covered the path they followed leaving footprints behind them. This was unsettling at best and without the proper concealment their "stalker" may catch up to them. They decided rather than to conceal their tracks they would misdirect whoever was following them.

High in the trees a Dark Elf gazed down in amusement at his quarry. The couple was clearly spooked and not thinking as clearly as they should. His plan was coming full circle and soon he would gain his bounty. He was well aware of their tactic; he had seen them do it before. The woods they traveled were well known to him, but not to his prey which gave him the upper hand. The game of cat and mouse was closing quickly.

## Chapter 55

Another traveler stood gazing at the celestial light show with a sense of dread and awe. Sir Gilead whispered a soft prayer into the night sky trying desperately to calm the restless feeling he had in his heart. The amulet he wore was radiating a soft dark gray echoing his mood.

He was tracking the Elf couple for the sake of the Captain he could not get out of his mind. He knew his assignment, but could not shake the uneasy feeling that this night was to become a turning point for them all.

The couple came to a split in the small path, walked a few yards one way without covering their tracks then cut through the brush to pick up the other side. The plan was to lose the one who was following them; they knew it was someone untrained in field survival. As for the town they would enter, it made little difference to them where they went. Their vengeance was exacted regardless of what the population held.

The Dark Elf leapt from tree top to tree top silently following his quarry. His agile body flew through the dark sky as effortlessly as a bird on the wing. When they got to the fork in the road, he knew which way they would go. It was a matter of picking up their trail when they cut back through. Sitting high in the bare branches he waited until they broke through the brush, and with a sinister smile he continued the chase.

Sir Gil followed the set of footprints carefully through the forest path. He knew his skills in tracking were sorely lacking, but he would keep up as best as possible. The footsteps he followed seemed more in a hurry and less careful. When he reached the split in the road the footsteps took one path leaving the other empty. Common sense told him to follow the tracks, but a nagging feeling said to go the other way. Ignoring his feeling he followed Common Sense until the footprints stopped in the middle of the road. The amulet chilled to a dark crimson. He knew at that moment he had made a grave error.

## Chapter 56

The couple raced down a small hill to the outskirts of a harbor town just as the sky again began to change its demeanor. The moon took a sinister red hue as a shadow crept across its face. The omen that was read clearly in the night sky spurred them into frenzy. Time was short and they needed to act.

The first house they approached was empty as if abandoned in haste. The second was a large estate with servant quarters off the back side. It was as if they were being driven by an outside force to conclude the vicious attack. Too much was at stake, in their minds, to not carry out their act of vengeance. Through a window they slid quietly, but not unseen. Their victim, a young girl, watched as they approached. There was no fear in her eyes as she quietly sat watching the couple's movements.

"We forgive you." The girl whispered as the blade was plunged deep into her heart.

Her blood covered their hands and the final breath from the child filled the air with a deep chill as her body slumped into the arms of the tormented mother. Retreating through the window they entered the vacant eyes of the girl haunted their minds.

Unnerved by her declaration the couple fell out of the window as the shadow that hid the moon released the silver ring. Their tasks complete in this town they hoped to find refuge in the forest, but already their presence was discovered as a low moan turned into a heart wrenching scream.

Running headlong through the streets in the shadow of the waning eclipse they raced toward the edge of town. The darkness covering the moon seemed to chase them slowly creeping across the surface in order to cover them in its malicious oily darkness. As they reached the edge of town the great celestial orb was revealed and shone like a spot light as if announcing their presence and exposing their deeds.

Tears streamed down their blood stained faces as the overwhelming sorrow and regret overtook them. Sincere remorse flooded over them like the Great Falls from their old life. The memories of family and the joy they had shared with their girls danced through their memories as if taunting them. It had become clear they would never again have that sweet life, but just once more it would be good to see their eldest daughter.

## Chapter 57

After the intensity of the eclipse and firestorm from the heavens as well as the treasure pulled from the depths it was apparent a night ashore was required. Shore leave would be a welcome chance to meet new people, drink horrible brews and stir up Pirate hostilities before disappearing again to the waves.

Several of the "Wailing Siren" along with the Captain meandered into a small pub along the docks. A horrible little hole in the wall whose water smelled worse than the ale and the ale was stale and flat. It was decided the reason the lights were so dim was to hide the filthy mugs holding the inferior beverages and less than appealing bar maids. Common belief was a few of their "women" really were not women at all, but men dressed in women's clothing. Back room acts provided in this pub were so disgusting as to be unthinkable for fear of the mental image firmly embedded in one's mind.

Choosing a reasonably clean table at the far back corner Greyy and a few of her crew took seats and quietly watched the surroundings. The small space was particularly full of rugged looking hellions and a grungy bunch of cut throats.

There was one piece to the picture laid out before them that seemed a bit off center; that was the boots of those by the bar and on either side of the door. They were wearing cloaks and robes used by the thieves in surrounding towns, but the footwear was far too advanced for common criminals and outcasts.

## Chapter 58

Realization that things were amiss came just as a cloaked pair of thugs tried to enter quietly and without fanfare. Obviously they were expected by the rush of activity that followed them. The moment they were fully inside the door was closed and bolted. Those who guarded the door ripped away the long hoods of the couple as they threw their own cloaks aside revealing Empirical Guard uniforms.

It was an ambush! The local Guards had been notified of the presence of the notorious outlaw couple that had been ravaging towns for more than three years.

The movement from the Guards caused a chain reaction that caused the entire tavern to erupt. Quick as a cat on hot coals blades, guns, and bows were drawn and set. None knew who spilled the first blood, but in short order there were bodies and shouts flying everywhere. Guards focused on the one specific pair, all the other outlaws in the building focused on any Guard they could find.

Regardless of who was ultimately the center of attention all that frequented the pub were wanted for something. None would go quietly or without a fight, and the recent celestial events were just the catalyst needed to set the powder keg of raw emotion into violence.

"Mother?" Greyylene voiced out loud as the hood fell from the woman's face in the center of the action. With that one word the chaos that had broken the low din in the tired pub took on a new fever. Those of the Pirate crew joined their Captain in trying to assist the couple in the middle of the attention.

The pair in the middle stood back to back their swords and short blades drawn and swinging. They may have been terrible villains but in this town they were brothers in arms against the governing powers. Any ruffian was "honor bound" to cause as much mayhem as possible especially where another outlaw was concerned. That was the honor code of the streets.

## Chapter 59

Greyylene and her crew began to swing and move along the perimeter at a pace that would ensure minimal injury to themselves while taking out as many guards as possible.

In one glance the entire room became a silent rush of air followed by a hollow empty vacuum. The couple at the center of the fray was her parents, and they were quickly being over taken by the sheer numbers of guards hunting them. Before she realized what she was doing, the Elf Pirate let out a war scream that automatically sent her crew into blood frenzy. They moved forward slashing and clawing through the mass of bodies towards the middle. Each stroke of a blade was answered with a singing arrow flashing through the air.

A low groan behind her took the focus off the guard in front of her enough for him to knock her bow out of her hands and send it skittering across the rough wood floor. The hard blow to her jaw knocked her back and off her feet landing next to a body almost void of life.

Falling hard next to her was a female body. When she looked to the eyes staring empty back at her the full agony of the past few years came screaming back at her. The room turned into a vortex of sound and color as bodies continued to fall. All she could do was hold her mother's head in her arms and weep bitter tears. Next to her lay the body of her father, his blank eyes staring at her bore into her memory.

She barely had time to close their eyes before she was hauled up by the back of her shirt and thrown into a line of other outlaws. Her crew spread throughout the line stood and watched as the guards gloated over their skirmish victory.

The Guard Captain, a tall husky man with long dark hair and a ravenous smile full of arrogance, strode down the line acting as if he had just conquered a trained army rather than tired rough necks, thugs and sailors. His grand speech must have been practiced for quite a time in the mirror, for his step would halt for a dramatic pause between "important comments" before continuing. Greyy waited for him to turn his back before giving a signal to her men. Silent and with little movement they carried out her understood order.

As the guards were moving to exit their Commander gave a flip of his hand and the order to "take care of the bodies, he only wanted their heads" Greyy flew into a fury. The spinning whirlwind of kicks and the slicing of bladed bow tips took the guards so off balance several others were felled before the arrogant captain could turn around. Coming to a standstill her bow fully drawn and armed she released her ire with all the force of rushing water pinning the Guard Captain to the door frame.

At her movements the rest of the ruffians took new vigor and expelled the remaining Guards from the tavern with such great force that they had no time to regain composure or retaliate. Greyylene had her final say as she spit in the face of the Guard Captain adding a low whispered curse into his ear. The curse she learned was used by the Dark Elf Clans.

Her final word was spoken as clouds began to form threatening to open releasing torrents of nature's fury. A low fog began to roll through town as if the streets were in a cauldron of boiling water. The focus of the storm seemed to settle over the Pirate's sloop of war bobbing innocently in the harbor.

From under the hood of his cloak the lone dark figure, who had remained still through the entire scene, smiled a slow wicked smile. In his hand was a dark amulet etched with an intricate design used by his Dark Elf House in which the power to summon a spoken curse was enacted. Even the low whisper from the Pirate Captain had set into motion events that would alter the course of her and her crew. There was only one way to break the curse she had invited, until that time their curse would also be their protection. The Dark Elf had earned his reward and gained his next game in one foul moment of rage.

## Chapter 60

Greyy and those of her crew present turned to gather the bodies of her parents covering them with cloaks taken from the remaining guards. Others of the cutthroats blocked the path of the "Peace Keepers" in order to allow the bodies to pass untouched. They were oblivious to all but their task of delivering the bodies of her parents safely to her ship.

As soon as the last crewman was aboard they set sail even though the tides were against them and the night was an inky black.

Burials at sea were no small matter and most sailors, whether Pirate, Tradesman or Navy understood the gravity of losing crew at sea. It was a somber occasion some marked by fanfare and fancy dress, others took the moment to pause and recognize the passing. For the parents of Captain Greyylene, however, all was quiet. The sea was calm, the birds circled in silence and the sky knelt in quiet hues of subtle gray as the waves stood ready to welcome their charges.

The bodies were prepared by wrapping them tightly in sacks weighted with cannon balls so no Navy dog would be able to dredge their bodies for the bounty. Those who volunteered to carry the bodies to the rails were honored with solemn silence as the rest of the crew lined the deck allowing them to pass. None of the crew knew the notorious felons but the fact alone that they belonged to their Captain was sufficient to bestow respect in their final voyage to the next life.

Captain Greyy stood by the rails watching as the bodies of her parents moved along the deck. The heartbreak she felt was mirrored by her crew. They were deeply moved, not only by the brutal ambush that brought them to this occasion but also by the profound sorrow of losing one's parents twice in one lifetime. As the bodies were plunged into the depths of the sea and drifted to the bottom and out of sight Greyy began to remember the soft summer days and happy meals shared with her whole family.

Greyy was so intent on leaving the horror behind her that she paid little attention to the seas or the surroundings. Several days later it was realized all that had taken place and the consequences of her actions. The curse she had sworn on the head of the Guard Captain had gripped her, the ship and her crew in the same icy clutch.

Thick black letters burned into the hull of the ship covering its former name. She now was the Captain of the damned ship "Vharcan"; the term for "Revenge" used by the Dark Elves whose incantation she had summoned in the heated rage.

A deep silver gray finger spread like an inky dye across the bow casting a dark aura around the ship and all its crew. The once lean sloop of war with its bright blue paint and crisp white sails was altered to match the curse brought on by its Captain. The figurehead that had been a mermaid with pleasing features and alluring eyes turned to a skeletal abomination, and the sturdy timbers across the deck resembled those often dredged from shipwrecks. Nothing from the mischievous past remained; all that remained was sinister and dark.

Her soft nod dismissed the crew back to their stations as she remained at the rails lost in thought and watching the sun set. An overwhelming sorrow flooded through her yet did not allow for tears. The last glimmer of light vanished beneath the horizon as she turned to join the men for the evening meal. Only then was she able to fully understand all the events that had led her to this point in her life. A new resolve settled over her to become the scourge of the Emperor's Guard.

## Chapter 61

The evil that spread like frost in winter across the Pirate vessel "Vharcan" had brought more attention to the Crimson Dagger Pirate clan than what Kerrs was willing to accept. The new name was beneficial for raising terror, but had also brought a high priced bounty on any Pirate associated with the damned crew. The fear and loathing brought about by the colors that flew added to the megalomania of the Clan Captain Kerrs Redgrave, but the added difficulties in common tasks and simple movements had begun to annoy.

Rather than continue with the constant battles he assigned "Vharcan" the responsibility of expanding the Pirate boarders. Pillage and plunder any new land or vessel that fell into their path in the name of Crimson Dagger Pirates. He armed them with blank map scrolls and any tool they felt would assist in taking them far away from their small island hide away. In this manner he kept the intrigue of the Pirates, avoided the Curse and earned new lands all without having to be bothered with it himself.

## Chapter 62

At the edge of town Sir Gilead stood watching the weather holding his amulet in both hands and weeping unashamed at the horror that had transpired. He knew as soon as the moon reappeared he was far too late. He had failed to reach the couple in time and now the die of their actions was cast into the waters of destiny. All that was left for his mission was to help with the aftermath. He brought the hood of his cloak up far over his head to hide his face and obscure the brown monk's robe he wore as he strode down the center of the street straight for the tavern.

Sitting on a low bench just outside the door of the tavern Sir Gil waited until the ruckus inside quieted. There were sounds of blades and screams from those who were injured; he knew that his services would be required soon enough. When the door opened he stood knowing what would exit. He held the amulet closely so as not to betray his position or allow the Captain to know he was there.

He waited for the crew and the bodies to disappear into the fog before entering the pub. The Guard Captain was still pinned to the wall and many of his soldiers were picking themselves off the floor and tending to other wounded. With a light flourish of his cloak the Monk made himself useful by first releasing Bernard Washburn from the wall. Breaking off the arrow that impaled, Gil was able to pull the wounded leader from his hanger. Once on the ground the healing Monk took out a small pouch of herbs and grabbed a bottle of strong ale that had managed to survive the attack. Mixing a handful of herbs with the alcohol he made a mushy paste that he applied to a clean bandage to dress the wounds of the Guard Captain.

After treating Captain Washburn's wounds and tending to several others Sir Gilead rose to inspect the rest of the small room for others who were injured.

He had been aware that the amulet around his neck had been buzzing with an energy he could not place. He slowly turned from the wounded soldier and watched the inky black swirl in the smooth stone as it began to tint red as an angry fire. The energetic buzz of a sinister presence continued to grow as a shadow emerged from a dark corner.

As if staring in a mirror the two Mystics stood in the center of the room. Face to face Sir Gil met the Dark Elf. Both men were the same height and apparent age; neither was old or young but ageless. They wore similar garb of robe and cloak with a tie belt which hung a pouch for herbs. Soft lines in the Monk's face were harsh and chiseled on the Elf; the long dark hair of the Monk mirrored the white hair of the Dark Elf. Their eyes burned with fire of passion one for peace and love, the other for destruction and hate. The milky white skin of Sir Gilead was swallowed in the ash black skin of the stranger before him.

The amulets they wore mirrored their owner's hearts as well, both could tell the heart of a person by the color of the stone and at this moment they sought each other proving the other's true nature and ultimate mission. The amulet that belonged to the Elf swirled a light lavender and blue. Sir Gilead's amulet continued to buzz and swirl with the black ink in the presence of unashamed evil.

With a scowl and sinister laugh the Dark Elf turned on his heel with a grand flourish of his cape and disappeared into the night shadows. There was no proof but Sir Gilead was certain that the destruction of the night had been assisted by the Evil he had just met. The chill that took the Monk and shook him to his core set his resolve more firmly not to be caught behind a moment, especially where the Elf Captain was concerned, she needed him to be ever vigilant. It was in this instance he realized the true difference between the Highland Tree Elf's gentle grace and soft heart and the Dark Elf's sinister evil.

## Chapter 63

After being released from the wall the Guard Captain was taken to the small Army Outpost to be treated for his wounds. Regardless of the fact that he and his "elite squad" barely survived the encounter Captain Bernard Washburn sent out a report to the Emperor of what happened, padding it slightly with facts that made them look more favorable. Only a few of his original team was still alive to counter his report and none of them were eager to reveal what really happened.

The irritation he had for the ruffians enflamed the fact his shoulder was not healing properly and the Captain was stuck in a makeshift cot for days longer than he desired unable to move and burning with a high fever. The wound oozed and throbbed from both sides of his body and the poorly trained staff of healers and so called doctors could do little more than watch him suffer. His ire was further stirred when he thought of the insult of such a wound to one of his station and upbringing, he was of noble blood and should be able to heal better than the average riff raff.

After several days the Officer was relieved to see the Monk who had traveled with him standing over his cot. Even the concerned look on his face gave him comfort that something would be done. His fear of dying by an arrow from some no good hooligan could be relieved slightly.

Sir Gilead stood over the small cot where Captain Washburn lay in obvious pain and hot with fever. His bedding was soaked from sweat and his clothes were still soiled with dried blood and the ooze from the open wounds on his shoulders. The Monk was more than irate when he addressed the first attendant that approached the bed.

"I Want This Man Given New Bedding AND Fresh Clothes, Right NOW!" the Monk barked causing the poor nurse to jump into action.

As soon as the Captain was settled and given a good washing his wounds were examined and redressed, but infection had already settled deep into the shoulder. Taking out a fresh bandage and more herbs along with fragrant oil the Monk made a new dressing for the wounds and fitted them gently. Part of the herb mixture was one that dulled pain and aided in sleep, causing the Captain to drift into a heavy slumber.

When the Captain was asleep Sir Gilead asked for a curtain to be drawn across his bed for privacy. Once alone the Monk removed the pendant from around his neck and placed the smooth stone gently over the hole made by the angry arrow. He laid his hand on Washburn and prayed softly through the night. By the time the nurse came to check on the patient Sir Gil was gone and Captain Washburn was sleeping comfortably snoring low and steady. The fever had broken and the wounds were clear.

While lying in his cot waiting to be cleared for active service, or at least to travel, Bernard thought back on his life and of the events that brought him to this place. Captain Washburn came from a long line of military men, he and his younger brother graduated from the Emperor's Training Academy with high honors. Their father was a Brigadier General serving with the Emperor's personal Guard, not to mention part of the nobility in the Empirical City. Both the brothers had been expected to achieve high ranks early in their respective branches of the military. As a commissioned officer in the army there was a level of expectation Bernard was meant to maintain. This ridiculous arrow had tainted his high standard for his own reputation.

With a heavy sigh he recalled the night in the tavern where his world was turned on its ear. He was embarrassed by a bunch of unruly cutthroats, and the one who brought him the most disgrace was some pirate female! His ire had been stirred to a glowing ember when she had stolen his reward by taking the bodies of the outlaws out of the tavern. Now that vermin would have to pay.

## Chapter 64

The report he sent also had another poster stating a high price for information, or the head of the Pirate Legend Greyylene. He had bargained that the reward money would buy out any loyalty that may be felt in the ranks of her crew or those of the other unsavory lot. The Damned Ship "Vharcan" would soon be his to send to the bottom of the ocean. He gave little thought to the fact that the Pirates were more in the jurisdiction of the Navy and not the Army Guards.

Riders sped through towns and villages replacing one poster for another. Most were shot to tree trunks with arrows as the courier rode without breaking stride. Many of the citizens were accustomed to seeing thick piles of wanted posters plastered to walls and other highly visible locations. Some of the townspeople bothered to look at them fearing at some point it would be their own face and name attached to a piece of parchment.

The hastily drawn image of Greyylene portraying her in the worst possible light to invoke fear and loathing was tacked far and wide across the lands. The reward was prominently displayed to ensure none would overlook the generosity bestowed on those who would assist.

Those citizens who saw the notices were generally unwilling to assist knowing the crew belonged to the most vicious pirate clan that sailed the seas. Mercenaries were more protective than Captain Washburn had anticipated making his plea for justice fall flat to the ground unanswered.

Stories from those who had witnessed the attack had spread faster than the riders. By the time the reports had reached the Capital City most of the posters were already removed, and the legends of the pirates were floating around the populace like chum in shark infested water. The people were hungry for gossip and the new threat to the Crown was the perfect story lines to evoke romance into illegal activity.

## Chapter 65

For the Emperor's Military it was a great boost. The call to arms that rang out among the wealthy was answered by the finest pampered playboys in the land. Families with fancy pedigrees sent their sons to enlist in the branch of service most suited for their station in society. Uniforms played a large role in choosing the proper destination for those seeking glory and notoriety.

The two branches of the Military were Army and Navy. Those families that were most familiar with sea faring and trade would join the Navy priding themselves with the snappy sapphire and emerald colors. The families that held to inland trade joined the Army with the crimson and purple uniforms.

Once all the officer slots were filled it was left to the less wealthy, but often more experienced, to fill the positions of real value.

A young recruit, Horatio Washburn, was especially eager to join the chase. It was his brother who had been embarrassed at the tavern and pinned to the wall by the rogue's filthy arrow. He was eager to level the odds and regain his family honor. To that end he fully intended on joining the Navy to ensure at least one Washburn would be able to sink the ship of the one who disgraced his family. The battle to rule the seas would soon be a heated and turbulent battle of wits and savvy! That was his promise.

## Chapter 66

Horatio stormed up the long marble staircase to the Admiral's chambers to argue a case he never thought he'd need to defend. His request for a commission had been rejected and he had been assigned a desk position at the Navy headquarters. He was raised in a long line of sea farers and military officers. He would not have minded so much not getting an officers commission had he been allowed to sail. But to be assigned to desk duty was intolerable.

Rushing in without invitation or permission was frowned upon, but it didn't seem to faze the irate Horatio Washburn. The Admirals' secretary tried in vain to corral the hothead but got a flying trip over a large ornate chair for the trouble. Throwing open the doors and storming into the middle of a meeting of new recruits earned Washburn a stern even glare.

"How could you put me on a Desk job?" he demanded.

"I can do what I want. I'm the Admiral, son. Have you completely lost all common sense and manners? Do you think that for any moment this is any way to earn your rite to be heard in this office?" the Admiral answered calmly but with a chill in his voice that could freeze a summer pond.

"I am sorry, sir, it's that my family has been sailing since I was a wee lad. I belong on a ship! Behind a desk will make my legs fall off. I can't possibly be asked to turn into someone like that idiot outside." He replied pointing over his shoulder at the Secretary who had finally recovered and was standing horrified at the door.

"That will be all, Niles." The Admiral said to his secretary waving him to shut the door.

Several hours later the doors opened again and the new recruits along with Horatio emerged. The faces of all but Washburn gave little evidence to what had been discussed. Waving a piece of paper and almost tripping over himself the new deckhand Horatio Washburn rushed around the office like a child on his birthday.

He was assigned the lowest position on the sloop of war "Avenger" effective immediately. As he rushed out of the offices and leaped the steps to report to his post he ran headlong into another deckhand by the name of Roland White. The collision landed both men in a tumbling pile of grass stains and groans rolling down a small embankment at the foot of the Headquarters building.

## Chapter 67

"Hey! Watch yourself there, mate. There's people walkin here!" Roland grumped.

"So sorry there lad! I got a bit excited."

Both men collected their things and tried to straighten out as best as possible. Fresh uniforms denoted them as Navy which led into a fairly vigorous exchange of information. It was also discovered they were assigned to the same ship. It would be much easier to explain their soiled uniforms when both alibis stood next to each other.

All the way to the docks they exchanged stories of what they had done since the Academy. They discussed their reason for joining the ranks of the Navy at this juncture in their careers. Both men had heard the tales of the Pirates and had grand dreams of being the one to bring the unruly clan to justice.

Once on board Roland and Horatio continued to retell the tales of the rambunctious pirates to any who were willing to listen. Reports and the wanted posters scattered across the lands gave the clan an air of mystery and intrigue that set in each recruits heart the strong desire to be part of the crew credited with sinking the hellions.

Finally on board a ship and sailing for the open ocean, Horatio pursued each task given to him with the aggression of a hungry bear. His drive to scale the ranks in short order was fueled by the competition with Roland White. They both sought their own commission and the race was on to see who won the right to command first. For Washburn notoriety and fame was the goal with the added bonus of family pride being the main driving factor.

## Chapter 68

Low whispers and hushed voices in the back room of an old run down pub piqued the curiosity of Greyylene and her quartermaster Kegan the Mad. A crusty rum runner spoke of a bounty so difficult to acquire most doubted the legitimacy of the tale. Back and forth they argued if the treasure was real and how to go about getting to it. Descriptions of its location were tossed around like leaves on the wind, but none were willing to pursue any avenue of exploration on a whim.

Not given to passing up an invitation for adventure, Greyy glanced at the quartermaster and gave a little nod. Both moved with an ease of one not wishing to draw attention but with purpose. Others of the crew had spread out through the pub, soon as they saw the Captain move they all made way to the door. They had heard enough to be very interested in the idea of hidden loot, and were willing to "expand the borders" at the expense of finding legendary wealth.

"Sails full at dawn, boys." she ordered quietly. "We need ourselves a thief, I'll meet you back on board." nodding to Kegan she faded into the shadows.

Striding with new purpose Greyylene headed across the dusty street to a corner known for pick pockets and murders. Long into the night she sat waiting for their new crewman. Finally several hours past sunset there was a gentle tug at her belt. Her hands flew as quick as lightning to grab the offending wrist of her "new recruit".

"You're hired." she said dragging the Dark Elf male along behind her back to the ship. Once aboard she locked him to the main mast and stripped him bare. All his pockets were emptied and the contents were piled on the deck. The one item he possessed that gave her a cause for pause was an amulet he wore around his neck. It was familiar yet she couldn't quite place how she knew it.

"I'll give you this warning once, male, I need your talents but you steal from any of us and you'll be chum for bait as your next job. Kampi'un?" she said as she leveled a steel glare at the newest member of her crew.

"Aye, Capt'n, I understand just fine." he said hiding the satisfied glimmer in his pale lavender eyes.

She left the poor fool tied to the mast but graciously returned his clothing. They were well on the way before she told the crew where they were destined.

"We head to the Ancient Wyrm's Lair." was all she said before she turned and walked back to the wheel deck.

## Chapter 69

The voyage would be several days following the sun. Since Greyy had been ordered to expand boarders and make discoveries it was not out of their way. Most of the purpose for going ashore was to listen for new directions to sail; this had been the distraction they needed.

The thief proved to have a difficult time on the water. His sea legs had apparently been left back on land. His dark complexion was less than helpful for being on deck during the day. Most of the Dark Elves were better suited in dark places and at night. He was having a miserable time. The announcement of their course did nothing to ease his discomfort, nor did the fact he was still tied to the mast.

"Starboard full rudder and stay true to course."

As the order was given a new sight on the horizon loomed for all to see. A giant bronze pillar with the likeness of a serpent its eyes glowing yellow and a coiled body towered several leagues over the ship guarding a secret entrance to Ancient Lands of the Elves.

Climbing to the crow's nest Greyylene shouted words only two aboard understood.

"Plynnuns'aawun." {take me in} she commanded to the pillar.

At her words the ship rushed from the waters that were familiar to ones that had not been explored in millennia.

"Start to mark the maps." She ordered to Bullseye. "We will want to come back eventually."

Pointing to a tall outcropping of rocks with a lighthouse perched majestically on top she gave the wheelman their new heading. The stench of sulfur greeted them and revealed the inhabitants of the island. Steam and ancient smoke from hundreds of dragons hung in the air giving the house lamp an eerie yellow green glow.

The crew stood on deck mesmerized by the sights and smells. Some had heard the stories of this place, but most were taken off guard and bordered on terror. The waters they sailed were smooth as glass with calm steady winds. A low unidentified growling rumble echoed across the water as they continued to go further into the lands of dragons.

"Steady, boys." Greyy said quietly not wishing to make any noise that would alert the great beasts to their presence.

Dropping the lead line and hitting soft sand forced the "Vharcan" to drop anchor and release the longboats. Each crewman was given a task to ensure the maximum success in the quest before continuing on their errand. Rowing to the chosen beach head, it was the first time in days that the Thief had been allowed free movement. His stiff joints and forced movements relaxed quickly when he saw the mass of dragon bodies sleeping in mounds like rolling hills.

Each beautiful body, full of scales that glimmered in the light, guarded piles of gold as a mother hen would guard its nest. Gleaming gems and shimmering coins beckoned the crew to continue, and causing the Thief to drool slightly at so much bounty with not near enough time to collect it all.

The moment their feet hit the hot sand each crewman found their task and began to work. They gathered arms and secured the longboats knowing that retreat would need to be in haste.

"Alright, boy, go earn ye'r keep." said the Captain as she shoved the Thief on ahead. He was so relieved to be off the boat and back on land he barely cared that the danger on the sand was far greater than it was on the seas.

"We're the bait, my lovelies, give the thief a clear path." she whispered to her crew. One man they left behind to keep watch and ensure nothing trapped them on the shore. Slow and steady they made their way up a path to a set of stone steps broken and long since forgotten by any Man.

The target was a shimmering green dragon that was set slightly apart from the rest of the clan. The scales were each the size of Kegan's hand and overlapped to form a thick armor hide. Its talons that looked like thick weathered iron honed to a point folded neatly under the mighty beast's head as a pillow, and the low groaning growl shook the earth under their feet as they approached.

Focused and clear in the task the crew skulked around the rocks and flanked the emerald beast. With a mighty yell from the Captain the crew flew into action hurling everything they had. Blades, arrows, gun blasts rang through the small valley in vain hopes of conquering one of the Guardians of the Lamp.

Waking the creature was simple, distracting it to move from its lair proved a bit of a challenge. The sinister yellow eyes that searched the hills for the offending barrage seemed almost blind in the bright sunlight. Raising slowly it towered above the earth showing its full majesty. The barrage continued in a more focused location urging the beast to follow allowing the Thief his moment to disappear to the far side of the nest.

The crew continued to distract the Dragon allowing time for their cohort to complete his task. Shortly after entering the nest the Thief came running from between the Emerald Dragon's legs as fast as he could go. Behind him was another dragon with golden ruby scales and quite able to see in the bright light of day. In his hand the Thief waved a Lamp that was proof enough of the existence of the treasure.

## Chapter 70

"Run! We got it! Run!" he yelled. "No need for quiet now, just Go!" The Captain ordered as they scurried to the longboat leaving the monsters behind and thankful they didn't fly.

"Alright, ye mis'rble wretch, show what ye got!" Kegan demanded grabbing the Dark Elf by the collar and shaking violently.

"Put'm Down! Give him a chance to unload. And think maybe we can get back to the ship before ye tearin his arm off his body?" Greyy said mildly amused and giddy with excitement of escaping in one piece.

Waiting impatiently she crossed her arms over her chest and waited to see the prize. The small satchel he filled with gems and gold he threw to the deck with little concern of its contents. The real care was when he opened his cloak and revealed a simple worn lantern. To the untrained eye it seemed rather plain and ordinary, but closer inspection showed a degree of workmanship and skill that had not been practiced since the time before the Great Catastrophe.

Forged of a metal known more to Elves and the others who inhabited the hidden lands and encrusted with tiny gems each cut and polished to reflect the light was the object of their errand. The ancient artifact was said to hold secrets of darkness so deep that just the thought would turn a man's blood cold. It was priceless and now was the possession of "Vharcan"!

Turning back to the thief she asked what other items he gathered in his short stay. He was looking rather distressed that he'd not get any cut if he gave up his loot, but seeing Kegan and the bloodlust in his eyes made him think differently. Continuing to unload pockets and pouches he made a pile on the deck of his bounty then nodded to say he was finished.

"Split the loot but let the Thief pick first." she ordered. "I just want the Lamp." she said before turning and walking to her cabin. Securing the prize in a corner of her cabin she returned to the deck.

"Back how we came and mind your manners. I'd hate to see any walkin' a plank in these waters." She said as she passed the grumbling crew. "Kegan, pull these boys to order already!"

A short distance and once again loomed a giant pillar in the middle of the ocean that matched the first serpent only with eyes glowing a deep red. The words that returned them to seas they knew seemed lost on the waves as the crew tried to do their jobs and horde the loot all at once. It was rather amazing how much the Thief could pack in his pockets.

The Thief still uncertain of his fate hung close to Captain Greyy's side the entire way back to the port he'd been discovered. He had requested to remain aboard and become part of the crew but she was none too eager to allow any who had not been part of her original band remain.

The Dark Elf was insistent on becoming part of the "Vharcan" to the point of annoying the crew and the Captain. To satisfy his persistence she promised if ever there was need of thieving she would seek his services. His lavender eyes shone brightly at this bringing a sly smile to his lips. As a sign of her promise she grabbed his arm and held it to a searing hot brazier marking him property of the "Vharcan". The burning mark on his arm was a small price for proof of his time aboard the Damned Ship.

## Chapter 71

Well on the way to making a name for herself Greyylene carried out the orders of the Pirate Lord Redgrave with enthusiasm and vigor. Great lands were claimed in the name of Crimson Daggers, so much that they were almost far too spread out to maintain order, even by pirate standards. None of that stopped Greyy. She was fierce and driven by an inner turmoil that not even she could understand. The discovery of new lands and peoples seemed to ease her vexed spirit and restless heart.

Across distant seas and around forgotten islands Captain Greyy and her crew found civilizations and settlements along with great fishing waters. Some that were found became the territory of Greyy and the Pirate clan; others were left uncharted and never mentioned. One such unmentionable territory was that of a Savage Tribe known as Tabaxi.

Buried deep in the hidden mists of a small island chain lived a race of humanoids so stealthy and cunning that the ability to describe them had once been impossible. Sailors who would get lost in their waters would swear they were being watched by an eerie presence. The lush green of the high trees and thick undergrowth always beckoned to be explored, but the few who would venture ashore never returned leaving a mystery fully intact.

Fear was not high on Greyy's list of things to do and the crew had learned to ignore common sense. The curse on their vessel stood as a protector against dangers that would otherwise make a sailor reconsider actions. Their bold disregard of caution had made them all very wealthy, and the exploration of new lands ensured the crew had treasure to tap across the map.

The discovery of Greyylene's "Savages" was accidental. The tribe she sailed into had unique abilities to shape their environment to accomplish the will of the Chief. Greyy was sailing calm seas with clear horizon when she found a target ship. All was well until the heavens turned testy. The waves grew choppy and the clouds dropped from the sky like a blanket. She was determined not to lose her prey to some silly weather!

## Chapter 72

Giving chase to a small merchant vessel belonging to the Emperor, "Vharcan" headed into a fog bank. They thought nothing of a little fog and held it in no degree of concern. The Pirate vessel was far enough back that it saw the other ship leave the fog and pursued without altering course feeling it would be a simple chase. When they entered the fog their fortune took a sinister turn.

They entered what seemed to be a thick forest surrounded by the soft gray blue cloud cover they had seen the other ship enter. The winds died and the sound of surf or life ended abruptly. For having no wind in the sails they moved at the pace of a quiet current. The "Vharcan" dropped a lead line and it showed water was far deeper than their line was long. They tried to drop the anchor to evaluate their location but it too never caught the sea bed. They were at the mercy of the drifting water as they rode quietly deeper into the 'hedge' obstacle.

The canopy above became thick blocking light from sun or stars. Silently they were drawn in deeper, hardly daring to breathe or speak expecting at any moment an ambush. Behind them the sea was lost and aft was no sign of anything other than thick branches. Suddenly there was more of a feeling than a sight, many eyes peering down from all around them. At full alert the crew stood prepared to battle and most certainly to die, all thought it would be their last voyage.

Tucked away deep in the middle of the floating barrier laid a large flat "meadow". Slowly their movements came to a full stop grinding with a sound of wooden hull on soft grass. The sight that greeted them was both alluring and terrifying. With burning green eyes stood a tall grizzled feline witch doctor with a long staff in his hand and clothed in long flowing robes that fell to the ground.

"You are hostile and trespassers in our Woods." He said with a light growl and a purr in his voice. His words sent shivers through the crew, but the more troublesome action was one they could not explain.

## Chapter 73

As the intentions were spoken the crew began to swoon and fall to the deck as if in a deep trance. Once they woke Greyy and the first mate, whose name was Henry Strongarm, were in a small hovel lined with shelves and bottles. Each was handed a cup and commanded to drink. Immediately after partaking of the vicious ale they both became violently ill. The tall Cat stood over them inspecting their condition.

When he was satisfied that they were both sufficiently distressed he began to bark questions in a rhythmic staccato purr. There was no malice or ill will in his demeanor, yet the questions brought out a terror that neither Pirate could identify. The two were completely at the mercy of their captor.

Secrets and ambitions were revealed with great degree of heartache and agony. The brew was fashioned from local herbs and spices and mixed with a low chanting spell. The outcome to the concoction was a brew that forced a deep honest glimpse into the secret desire of the heart.

Most that drank the substance were too ruined to survive the encounter. With this treatment the Tabaxi were able to best determine the heart of those who trespassed. Those who survived were allowed to return to the sea keeping the secret of the Ocean Oasis as if all a vivid dream.

After what seemed days in the presence of the Holy Man, Henry was in no condition to realize his name never mind the open seas. The true intents that had been revealed were more than he could bear and did not come easily. His secrets were a deep family legacy that he had hidden for years. For them to be revealed in front of his Captain and these strangers was beyond his ability to cope. His curse lifted allowing him to be rid of his horrible secret and in doing so became the first fatality of the damned ship.

The Captain fared better only because of her will and desire to continue; along with a pure spark of light buried deep within her soul. Greyylene lay in a low cot wracked with a fever and unable to focus her thoughts or images. She was desperate to find her way out of the muddled fog of the potent liquor.

Vaguely in her waking moments she would recall a soft paw stroking her hair as if she were a child who had awaken from a horrible nightmare and was in need of comfort. The fur was silky to the touch and left behind an oddly soothing tingle like that of a feather. A low sing song voice would echo in her blurred memory reciting verse and rhyme returning her to her youth in the classroom. Over and over the voice would recite the same words to the point that she would wake herself singing them in her sleep.

## Chapter 74

Days turned into weeks as she continued to recover from the encounter of the Ale. She did not learn of her first mate until she was about to return to the vessel. Deep within her heart she knew the loss was deep yet she could summon no feelings for her downed officer. She hoped at some point she would be able to process the great sacrifices she was forced to make on behalf of a man she worked with closely yet barely knew.

She was forced to face many truths her heart had no desire to recognize in her trial by liquor. The one odd image that returned on countless occasions was the blurred face of a man. She knew it, yet could not recognize it. Fear never entered when he was there no matter how troubling the surrounding images may have been. Always when the man was there a soft glow of peace entered with him. His long robe was a soothing brown and his heart glowed with a pale blue adding to his peaceful aura. His hands showed kind and gentle, but never his face although she knew he was smiling.

The ordeal complete she was escorted back to her ship. When she stepped on deck the trees began to fade. The gentle lapping of waves against the hull brought a smile to her lips, it had been so long Greyy had almost forgotten how wonderful it sounded and how cozy the ocean felt wrapped around her ship. She was home and it was wonderful to be returned to where she belonged.

Opening the door to her cabin was like stepping into an old familiar pair of pants. Looking around she drank in all the sights and colors of each item careful to notice details in woodwork and fabrics. Touring the room her eyes dropped to an unfamiliar item of intricate beauty and craftsmanship.

On the floor at the foot of her bed was a chest. The wood and metal work was beautiful and decidedly not that of Man. As she studied the designs flashes of a memory bombarded her consciousness. The home of the Tabaxi was filled with items carrying similar designs. She carefully opened the chest, half expecting it to explode or something. In its depth were several bottles and a keg of the newly tested Savage Ale along with a note scrawled in a long elegant script explaining the lock mechanism of the chest and a warning of the misuse of the Ale.

The warning was that even a small weak amount of the brew could cause strong reactions. It was imperative that not only the making, but the serving of the drink be done properly. Consequences would be ruthless if the secret were revealed or exploited. Any variation no matter how slight would alter the brew in a manner that could irrevocably alter those who drank it.

## Chapter 75

Not long after being able to walk the decks again, Captain Greyy decided it was high time to stop walking around the keg and actually investigate it. So horrible was the headache that she had sworn off strong brew all together, however, now it seemed it would be necessary to at least investigate this new concoction to see its full potential. Deciding to trust that the Tabaxi Witch Doctor had delivered a less lethal copy of the original she ordered several of the crew to try the effects of their new found potions.

A grand celebration was thrown in order to ease the tension of those who were volunteered. Rum and grog flowed free through the entire crew, and those who were the elected guinea pigs got "Savage Ale". Carefully Greyylene watched the effects of those who had partaken to compare with the sailors who had the "good stuff". What she saw made her smile a devilish grin that made the Quarter master a bit nervous.

It seemed that not only was the "Savage Ale" an amazing brew capable of extracting deep secrets, but it was also full of body and flavor most pleasing to a sailor's pallet. Once those who had it were sufficiently inebriated they were brought to the Captain's quarters for a bit of a debriefing.

All those who were gathered were asked the same question. "What is your biggest fear?" The answers provided were both amusing and intriguing. A few had fear of rats or spiders or other such mundane items, one had a fear that his "secret love for the Captain" would be revealed, but the one who intrigued her most was from the boatswain Mr. Donny Porter.

"What is your biggest fear?" She asked like she had with all the others.

"I fear the water, ma'am." came the reply. There was a stunned silence that hung in the air for several moments before she could speak again.

"Clear the room, Kegan." she ordered. Once all the others had left she sat opposite her crewman and studied his bloodshot eyes for any sense of clarity. Once she could speak to him and he understand her words she spoke simply of a new plan that would get him off her deep ocean vessel, yet still remain part of the crew.

The short interrogation resulted in a plan of action for the captain and a deep sleep for the crewman. She immediately went to her wall maps to study the layout of land masses and deep water ways. Markings had already been plotted to show the majority of Military activity. Her plan took shape in her mind as she turned to leave the sleeping Mr. Porter to his dreaming.

A few hours of her pouring over charts to find the most advantageous port she allowed the crew to sleep off their festivities as she prepared for a bit of mischief. The "Savage Ale" had proven to be a remarkable asset and would come in quite handy in order to learn more of enemy movements. For her, at this moment, the enemy was the Royal Navy. Finding a port that was out of the way, yet still guarded by Navy would be the task. Allowing her long slender finger to glide across the map following a coast line, she soon found the perfect port in which to set her devious plan into action.

## Chapter 76

"Avenger" was a sturdy ship with its gun deck holding 20 cannons and the crew compliment of 250 soldiers with six officers and the Captain. It was small in comparison to others of the fleet, but it was swift and agile making it an ideal escort ship. She was a three mast sloop with crisp white sails and clean ropes. The rails were polished oak and shone like a bride on her wedding day.

The salt air was invigorating to the young deckhand Horatio Washburn. He couldn't help himself but to smile into the crisp sea breezes that taunted the sails and splashed the fine mist of the waves onto the clean deck. Looking out at the fleet he felt a great sense of pride at being part of a great Military establishment, and finally being on the open waters. He was part of the able bodied sailors aboard ship but had no intentions of remaining in that position.

Horatio and Roland were both far too low in rank to make promotions by flaunting their nobility. Where they had high birthrights and solid pedigrees they were still considered lower class compared to the others aboard their ship. They were forced to earn rank and title by outshining the other blue bloods assigned to the "Avenger".

The Captain, James Bishop, was a reasonable leader with a colorful past and powerful patron. The only reason he had any rank at all was due to his patron's friendship with the Emperor. As a crusty sailor Bishop was more interested in the skill of a deckhand rather than pedigree. Each time a list of names for promotion crossed his desk he would stroll along the deck to see the actions and attitudes of those listed.

Captain Bishop practiced a routine of knowing every man that served aboard his vessel. When battles raged he would not be among the ones who found more duty in his cabin rather than on deck with the crew. He was considered hardnosed and gruff but with a level of common sense and a sixth sense of what the sea whispered that was unparalleled. When he walked the deck he looked for other men who shared that desire and ability, regardless of a patron or breeding.

Pulling out of the harbor at Admiral's Cove heading South East to the Navy Headquarters it became apparent that the crew consisted of spoiled pampered rich kids with visions of grandeur and entitlements. Few of the deckhands had any kind of training and all had very soft hands completely unaccustomed to harsh ropes and salt water. The level of whining and crying that came at the end of each day was almost unbearable.

## Chapter 77

It took two days to reach the Headquarters but in those two days the Captain had received over half the crew putting in for transfers or promotions. None of the requests had been answered and by the time they pulled into their slip most of the crew was ready to storm the Captain's quarters. The few who did not want any part of the spoiled rich kid mutiny stood back and watched.

When Captain Bishop opened his door to a fluff riot he immediately unleashed the bull whip at his hip and let it sing across the tops of their heads. When that didn't work he let it sing out again allowing the short forked leather strap at the end to kiss a cheek of one of the rioters. The shriek that echoed across the water one would swear belonged to a cat being cut in two by dull blades.

The sniveling young aristocrat barely holding back tears from the sting on his face brought the rest of the assembled to silence with his blood curdling cry. Small in stature and with feminine features he would have been mistaken for a woman if it were not for his uniform, and even then there was question. When he stormed up to the Captain and tried to reach his face it was more comical than frightening.

Unable to intimidate the Captain's towering frame the deckhand tried to stand on his toes in order to get face to face with the offending officer. Teetering on tip toes and seething in anger the young recruit tried in vain to express how unfairly he was being treated but the words came out as gibberish and drool. The sting on his cheek only added to his mood and when he touched the welt that had developed tears flowed freely like a small child who had been scolded for being naughty.

With a nod of his head Captain Bishop signaled to the security he had to detain the young upstart. Binding him and trying to have him removed quietly proved to be impossible so the guard lifted the rioter by the back of his collar and carried him toward the gangplank still kicking and screaming all the way to the local jail.

When the ruckus had subsided Bishop began to pace the deck. His thundering footfalls rang out across the quiet harbor like cannon fire. The order to fall in was almost inaudible yet the response was immediate. The other rioters who were now quivering and shaking at the inspection of their commanding officer were terrified of what would happen to them now that they were secure in port.

As he passed each of the spoiled children who presumed to disrupt his ship with their temper tantrum Jack Bishop ripped the insignia from their uniform and threw it overboard. When he had finished the line he had each man put in irons and taken to the jail to await their fate with the Military Court. Over half the crew was lead off in chains leaving a skeleton crew to finish out the rest of their tour.

"Well, boys, looks like this trip will test what the rest of you are made of." Bishop began as he inspected the rest of the crew. "I knew this was the dredges of the recruitment but I had no idea just how badly we were hurting for good officer material. I sincerely hope the rest of you greenhorn wannabes will be more productive than the others of the elite class of brats we had been given."

"We are the least of the fleet, with the least to work with and the most to prove. None of the command wants to see any of us succeed or move in rank, in fact most are taking bets at how long it will take us to destroy ourselves or be killed in action. They would just as soon we disappear into nothing and not give any trouble." He continued.

"I am of the mind that drifting quietly into the waves is not an option for this crew. We will perform our duties to the best of our ability and with whatever crew compliment we happen to have. You all will earn your own commission if by no other way than default. We will prove our worth and we will be noticed! If you do not wish to get your precious uniforms soiled then by all means take your leave now. I will be most happy to give fresh orders to any who speak now, otherwise you are here for the duration of your tour and you will give me the best you have to offer."

There was a slight pause to allow for any crew to move. None moved so the Captain continued his speech.

"Our assignment is to patrol the waters between Navy Headquarters and Port Bistrot. It is a simple assignment, one given to the weak. With the rising threat of pirate activity I suspect that will change soon enough. Learn your stations well and be prepared to battle at any moment. We will prove our salt. We will be noticed. We Will Be the Best Crew On the Open Sea! Is That Understood?"

When the Captain was finished he dismissed the men for three hours shore leave and to collect supplies and give the report on the mutineers. When they were collected back on board the crew seemed quiet yet had an ease of men who belonged at sea and were ready to prove the strength in character each was capable of showing.

With a satisfied nod the order was given to make way. Roland White, Horatio Washburn along with Captain Jack Bishop took a moment to watch as the land vanished on the horizon and the next chapter in their adventure began.

## Chapter 78

As a pirate any excuse for adventure, mayhem or treasure is cause for investigation. Part of what made her a good captain was the fact she had a keen nose for sniffing out productive runs. The whole crew knew that to maintain a pirate life it was necessary to find the treasures others wanted to keep hidden. Donny Porter was no exception, even though he was terrified of the sea. She was aware of Porter's discomfort and had no intention of prolonging his experience any more than necessary, but her desire was for one final hunt while her original crew was intact before dropping him off as her spy in the Navy Port.

Now that Greyylene knew where she wanted to plant Donny Porter her next task was to find that one last big haul. She invited a select few to join at the Navigator's table to discuss ideas and locations. Normally those little meetings included the Navigator, Kegan, Donny, and herself, but this time some extras from the crew were able to attend. Several others with a vested interest felt the need to offer opinions. The small cabin became increasingly stuffy as more of the crew relished the idea of being included on a planning session. Each man tried desperately to peer over the shoulders of those in front in order to glimpse the general location on the maps and sea charts.

Captain Greyy had become so engrossed in the task at hand that the growing crowd around her faded into the salt mists. The look on her face made it seem as though she were sea sick, yet those closest to her knew the look of deep concentration and focus. Her hands resting on her hips with her fingers tapping the leather belt at her waist made a slight squeaking thud that only she could hear. The furrows in her brow were so deep they almost looked as if they could be planted with corn or some other crop, and the twist in her lips gave her a fishy presence.

Shoving his way through the crowd with little regard for anyone but his own agenda the Dark Elf, who had been so quiet for the past several weeks he had been thoroughly forgotten, unrolled his own map and slammed it on the table. Adding his own ornate dagger to a clearly marked spot on the parchment he announced his thoughts in a decidedly dogmatic manner causing those around him to jump and breaking the reverie of the Captain.

"Goddamit! What did you do that for?" she demanded startled at his intrusion.

"I came to show you a new heading." He said pulling his dagger revealing a small dot on the exquisitely handcrafted linen map.

She squinted at the details matching them to their current location scissor stepping with her fingers across the expanse in question. Amused at the prospect a smile began to grow across her face.

The intrusion not withstanding information was the demand of the day and the Dark Elf had delivered. Briefly relaying the account of a grand treasure so difficult to attain it had all but been forgotten. The only way to know its exact location was to find an ancient Mystic of a tribe of "Savages" long lost in the forests. The Elf's map had been color coded detailing locations and land obstacles to be aware.

## Chapter 79

The only concern in the mind of Greyylene was meeting up with more Savages. The encounter with the last tribe of Tabaxi had brought a little too much excitement to the crew and she did not relish another bought with the tall Felines. Regardless of her misgiving she put the matter to a vote explaining the possibility to experience more of the wiles belonging to the cat race. Sharing the excitement of her crew, she tried to hide her own feelings so as not to influence their decisions.

The overwhelming vote to go made Greyy smile at the prospect of adventure. She was almost giddy when she dismissed the crew to stations so they could get the journey underway. With the crisp breeze on their faces the crew began to sing showing their excitement the best way a pirate crew knew how, other than the grumbling and bickering most often found on a ship of their size.

The coordinates set the mark only a day and half off their current location and well within reasonable distance to the Navy Port Bistrot. The seas were calm and the winds steady making the time and distance seem to fly. Preparation for battles kept the crew busy and hands occupied avoiding the maddening anticipation of buried treasures.

As the "Vharcan" drew nearer to their destination Captain Greyylene's enthusiasm began to turn to restlessness. Calling her Man at Arms and the Navigator together she made certain that the crew was on high alert and they remain cautious to avoid any Navy patrols. She could see the Navy headquarters buildings on the horizon as she peered through the long glass. They were within spitting distance of the Navy, yet this was where the map location pointed them to go.

Hugging as close to the shore line as possible the "Vharcan" rode high on the wave and silent in the winds. The dark sails melted into the rock face of the sheer cliffs making them difficult to see. With an anxious leap Greyy climbed the ropes to the crow's nest to investigate a faint noise she heard over the lapping waves on the hull.

Peering into the distance she saw another vessel. The colors were those of the Navy and their crew was so confident they were the only ones on the seas that barking orders just to listen to the echo off rocks was a game. Most of Greyy's crew had also noticed the careless echoes of the other crew and had become anxious in the face of a confrontation. Skimming down the ropes with such grace and speed she seemed to almost fly, Greyylene whispered the stealthy orders to not be noticed.

"A game they want, it is a game they shall have." She muttered to herself and Kegan the Mad.

Proceeding to the poop deck to maintain the surveillance of the Navy vessel Captain Greyy kept a close eye in the glass waiting to be discovered. As they vanished around a long slow bend in the mountainside a glimmer of reflection off the glass from the other ship caught her eye. The final look at the enemy was a deckhand peering back at her.

She smiled to herself knowing that she had been spotted but unlikely to be pursued. She gave orders to continue on their current heading and to remain quiet. There was enough to keep the concentration high avoiding rocks and shallows.

## Chapter 80

The shore grew high in their sights and awareness turned to relieved comedy as "Vharcan" slipped into the rocks leaving a Navy deckhand wondering if what he saw was real. A sheer cliff face dropping into the ocean hid a narrow passage with heavy growing canopy of trees. The water was deep allowing a ship to enter, but the rock walls were close together making it a tricky passage for even the best navigators.

The sails were furled to assure none would be caught in tree limbs or roots as they carefully made their way through the narrow pass. Even though there was no evidence to suggest anyone saw them, the entire crew felt the heavy uneasiness of being watched. Nervous jitters spread through the ship as if they awaited an ambush. Rounding a small easy bend in the channel there was a collective sigh of relief to see the narrows open into an inlet large enough to hold several tall ships.

At the far end was a short dock and steep stairs carved into the rock face leading to a hidden landing barely wide enough to walk through in a single file line. Deep claw marks gave evidence that some sort of mountain cat used the same path often adding to the troubling sense of apprehension that was felt by most of the crew. Those in the small landing party edged the narrow walk along slick stones up to the sheer cliff face. It was hoped that the Mystic they were told about would have the precious information and that the errand would not be in vain, or require too much in the way of sacrifice.

Once at the top the Dark Elf assumed the role of leader and guide into the thick woods, much to the annoyance of Greyylene. Every so often as they traveled he would whistle a short trill. It was assumed he was listening for a response, and hoped it would be friendly. The path they followed was narrow and thickly covered by leaves and underbrush but every now and then a track of something odd could be seen in the soft earth. As they traveled deeper into the brush the uneasy feelings grew stronger. Paranoia or reality the whole party could feel eyes watching their movements.

Finally the brush began to thin and light could be seen from the canopy. Rounding a sharp bend they came abruptly into a clearing. Small huts on stilts or built into the trees hung overhead like pictures on a wall. The smell of a fire reached their noses but could not be seen. Gazing to the floor of the clearing the path branched into several directions scattering from the opening into the woods.

## Chapter 81

The crew stood in the clearing a few moments before rustling in the brush caused them all to jump and reach for weapons. Tall feline figures emerged from the thick forest surrounding Greyy and her party. The Savages towered above the Pirate Crew boasting superior numbers and strength. Their slick bodies were covered in fur with markings that copied exotic cats.

The soft tan and yellow in their fur was almost inviting in their sinister beauty. The warriors stood upright on hind legs holding weapons with something that resembled the cross between hands and paws. Clear eyes in yellow, green and brown hues, watched the strangers with intelligent curiosity and caution. They were all dressed in tribal colors in a manner that would be easy to maneuver yet still protect vital areas of their body. Greyy smiled slightly as recognition dawned.

"Put down your weapons." Greyy whispered to her group as she also lowered her bow.

The Tabaxi that surrounded them were of a different tribe than she knew but their elegant intelligence was easily recognizable. How the Dark Elf came to know these people was a mystery she intended to uncover as soon as it was possible.

She was deeply impressed by these people and the pleasure of meeting another tribe pleased her beyond words. Greyylene still wore the Tabaxi amulet identifying her as a friend to the people, and endearing her to the Tribe immediately. This action annoyed the Dark Elf who had hoped to use this discovery as an excuse to request more responsibility on board.

A tall ancient female dressed in long flowing leather skirts and tunic covered in a soft wool sleeveless robe approached the strangers. In one hand she held a tall gnarled walking stick with an emerald encased in silver and wrapped with leather ties that entwined down the length of the wood. Her other hand lay loose and comfortable by her side. Clear piercing green eyes studied each stranger in turn evaluating their worth, or their flavor. With a low purr she turned giving the slightest nod for the Captain and her crew to follow. They followed the gentle swish of her tail in silent compliance.

Retrieving a small pouch from around her neck the tall Elder shook it lightly and poured the contents on the glossy surface of a shallow wooden bowl letting the wooden carvings clatter around the surface. Bending to study the pattern laid out before her she gave a huff and a purr before slowly raising her head to give a long gaze to the Captain.

With a voice smooth as velvet the Mystic Tabaxi stood to her full height and leveled a gaze on Greyy that would make a grown man tremble. One slow blink and she began to give the warning that was laid out in the shallow dish.

"Ah Missy Captain ye seek a most dangerrrrous quest. The waterrrrrs ye seek arrrrrfrrret with hazarrrrds frrrrom the deep. Wherrrre the ocean is lost in space and time will be yourrrrr jourrrny's end. But you must bewarrrre the depths that lie in the Crrrrrescent of the Dead Moon." She purred softly to Greyylene ignoring the Dark Elf completely.

"If ye arrrre desparrrrate to continue this voyage, it will need to be agrrrreed upon by the whole crrrrrew. All theirrrrr lives arrrre at rrrrrrisk. Take a moment to considerrrrr well my warrrrrning." She finished with a twitch of her whiskers as she turned to allow the discussion. Her keen hearing was aware of all that was said but she chose to ignore comments and argument. As she waited she continued to keep a level gaze on the Dark Elf watching for his input to the conversation.

## Chapter 82

Shudders and groans came from the other crew members once information was given. Uncertainty and nervous energy spread through the small group but was quickly squashed by a malevolent glare from the Captain. Greyy glanced at Kegan and Porter watching their faces to determine their thoughts.

Kegan the Mad and Donny Porter were the two who had the most influence in this particular adventure and their decision would be the one that was followed. They glanced at each other then back at Greyy, and with a wink from Porter the silent debate was finished.

"Its decided, boys. We sail at Dawn." she said with a nod.

The Mystic took a few elegant steps towards Greyy as she laid her staff on the ground, a low muttering purr emanated from deep within her body as the great Tabaxi entered a trance. She reached for Greyy taking her hands between the soft paws. As the blessing was concluded Greyy let out a loud moan as searing pain shot through her arms and hands.

When the Mystic released her hold Greyy fell to the ground steam rising from a detailed intricate design scorched on both sides of her hands. Kegan and Porter rushed to her side furious but silent at the damage done by the Tabaxi again to their captain. A soft look from the Tabaxi set their anger aside as they helped Greyylene to her feet.

Without a word the feline nodded towards the nearest hut turned and walked away not bothering to look back but stood at the entrance waiting. Greyy of course followed with Kegan close on her heels. At the door a firm paw rested on Kegan's chest not allowing him to enter. He was forced to wait outside and hope no more damage would come to his Captain.

Several hours past before rustling was heard from inside the hut and the flap was opened. From the darkness came two Tabaxi along with Captain Greyy. The ancient Mystic, named Winter Harvest, and the tribal Chief, named Gray Scar, escorted Greyylene to her waiting crew members. Winter Harvest handed Kegan the Mad two large jugs to carry as she bowed her head to the Chief and Captain. The long glance she gave to the Dark Elf was not missed by Greyy, but it was not the time or place to determine the source of the Mystic's apprehension of his presence.

Lightly touching their soft furry faces to Greyy the two Tabaxi dismissed the Pirates to continue on their adventure. A small contingent of warriors was assigned to act as guides and protection as they returned to their ship.

Reaching the top of the narrow incline the lead Warrior approached Greyy to speak. Greyy nodded for her crew to continue while she spoke to the great cat. Even though they were meant to continue the curiosity outweighed the order and they stood a ways off trying to hear what was spoken.

The warrior towered over Greyylene, his armor shimmered with muted greens and browns blending into their forest home. His paws wrapped around a long spear, the dewclaws acting as thumbs held it with fierce agility. Soft purring trills muffled any real spoken words. When the conversation concluded the warrior took a medallion from his neck and placed it around Greyy's, causing her other amulet to clink softly against the new one, before turning to vanish into the forest along with the rest of the escort. Knowing they were present was still not enough to find any evidence; no paw prints, broken branches or claw marks to tell any but the Pirate crew walked that path.

When they reached the "Vharcan" orders were given to shelter for the night. They would sail at dawn, but only at dawn and not a moment sooner.

With the dawn came foul weather and even fouler moods. None wanted to start yet none wanted to stay either.

"Com'n boys let's set sail and get this over with."

## Chapter 83

The Captain went to the maps and held out both of her hands revealing the etchings in her flesh matched the drawings on the linen from the Dark Elf. A thicker line snaking along the back of one hand and continuing across to the other made a clear path in the direction they were meant to sail.

"And that would be our course." She told the Navigator holding up her hands to show him as they set sail for the promised adventure.

They had barely set out of sight of land when the sea grew dead calm. Miserable sky and not a bird to be seen, there was not a ripple in the water to give any hint of life. Hours of low wind made the sails look sad and neglected. The only positive was a strong undercurrent that carried the ship on a generally accurate course.

They were just beyond Navy prying eyes when a call came down from the crow's nest. In the middle of the deep ocean lay a debris field from ships long lost and forgotten. It was not a sight that came often and to find it fed into sailor's superstitions and fears. The waters were different in this part of the ocean and the debris field proved it. Rudder commands were failing and attempting to change direction in any way was near to impossible. They were forced to stay on the current heading and hope the Ocean knew where they wanted to go.

"Start to chart now." Greyy ordered to the Navigator.

Immediately the Navigator and a nearby deckhand began to take readings of their location, depth of the waters and landmarks. The first few drops of the lead line came back troubling as the waters were growing deeper. Marking the path on their current maps was beginning to form the top half of a crescent.

Greyylene glanced at her hands and the etchings that had been scorched into her palms. The course laid out by Winter Harvest lead directly through the center of a long sweeping arc shape that spread across both of her hands.

"This must be the Crescent of the Dead Moon that the Mystic warned about." She said under her breath.

## Chapter 84

Idly Greyy reached to the amulet that was given by the Tabaxi warrior. It was warm to the touch and had a soft yellow glow, but she was far more concerned about not becoming part of the debris or getting lost in the deep seas to give it much notice. They had gone too far in to turn around and with no room to navigate they were forced to stay on the current heading.

"Starboard, Capt'n What is That?" came a nervous announcement from a deck hand.

Long and low a steady ripple came streaming towards them. It moved the clutter like it was fallen leaves in wind. Having to deal with deep sea monsters in such a confined place was no small matter. The energy aboard took on a sudden panic as the whole crew realized the sort of danger they were facing.

Low and calm the Captain readied her bow and spoke to the crew.

"Steady boys, it's just a Kraken and we've faced the likes of that afore, we'll face it again and be better for it I'd say. Take up arms and load the guns, steady as she goes. Rum all around when battles done, lad's!" she said with a confidence that belied her own nerves.

A long spiked tentacle rose over the bow threatening to take the jib off the bow signaling the battle had begun. One after another the slithering beast began to invade the rails. A deep groaning growl came from deep beneath the ship as cannon fire rang out across the water. Cutlasses and blunderbuss sang and boomed in elegant chorus with the flaming arrows from Greyy adding the harmonies to the fray. Each man took their station and performed the elegant dance of the Kraken with bravery and stupidity. Any sailor with a lick of common sense would never have entered a battle against a creature twice their size and no degree of fear or intimidation.

The beast gave a battle that lasted the better part of the day. Several of the crew were injured and only one fatality, that of the Kraken. After the cleanup and repairs to the vessel Greyylene opened the reserve chest that held several kegs of high priced rum. Her crew had fought a foe that was mighty, and they came out the victor. It was an occasion that required celebration.

Sluggish and sore from the events with the Kraken most of the crew groaned loudly to hear the Navigator announce they had come to the specified destination. Once again the lead line was dropped without hitting bottom. How they were meant to find treasures in a part of the sea that was too deep to dive was difficult to tell.

"The only thing we can do is to drop nets as far as they go and hope they grab something useful." Greyylene said.

"Remember boys this is uncharted waters and very deep. Keep the nets even and untangled if we go down here we'll become the next mission for plundering from some other idiot pirates."

With orders in place and the riggings set to keep balance nets were dropped as far as possible. Slowly they moved forward in the water as if trolling for dinner all the while also marking the maps. Back and forth along the width of the Crescent they trolled the deep chasm for their lost treasure. Working through drunken thick eyes and aching muscles from the Kraken the crew continued to drop the nets and drag not expecting anything for their troubles.

Finally a loud creaking from below the hull and a heavy list to starboard sent the crew into a panic. The nets had found something and it was massive. Almost to the edge of the Crescent the only option was to move out of the deep chasm and try for a more shallow sea bed. Once they were able to stabilize it was discovered that the net had caught on the main mast from a Royal Cargo Vessel.

## Chapter 85

Most sea charts that were available had the entire quadrant marked as a hazard zone. The deep waters unstable currents caused a mess to any size ship. Shipping and cargo vessels were instructed to stay away from the foul waters and the dead calm seas. None had been able to chart it to tell just how far the Crescent reached. The "Vharcan" was the first vessel that had accurately navigated and marked the entire region. The information they found would be useful for a long time to come, and not only to the Crimson Dagger Pirates.

Why a ship from the Emperor would be passing in these waters was far beyond any common logic. Whatever the cause the bounty of foolish sailors who obviously belong on dry land would be most welcome aboard the Pirate ship. Haul after haul was brought aboard until they were almost too heavy to sail.

Just before dusk the last of the cargo from the sunken ship was pulled onto the deck. By light of torches and lamps the crew began to sift through the mound of treasure pulled from The Crescent of the Dead Moon. Elation poured over the crew like a spilled keg of rum as they discovered riches beyond belief. It was discovered that the vessel was from the Royal Mint and Depository. Chests and containers full of gems, gold, silver, jewelry and fine handcrafted cloths were stowed in the hold. The other useless items were returned to their watery graves.

Each man was given a share of the bounty in a chest they marked with their own signet. As Greyy and supervised a low murmur buzzed among the crew. They enjoyed the bounty but were unwilling to share with the others of Crimson Dagger. It was their necks on the line and their work that had found and mapped the location. That should be sufficient to give to Redgrave.

"Attention, Gentlemen! I hear you and I agree. We will find our own secret location for the safe keeping of our honest day's labor. We will make a copy close in image of the one we charted for Kerrs and then none will ever speak of this again. Tis clear?" She stated with a nod and a sly smile knowing the crew would be more than happy to comply.

## Chapter 86

With the treasure stored in the hold the crew began to make ready to find another hide away. They were beginning to gain a level of comfort in their find when a low growl shook the water beneath the ship. At first the crew thought maybe it was another beast from the depths but the rumbling growl continued to grow and intensify.

Peering through the long glass off the port side Greyylene found an outcropping that looked to be a perfect hideaway for the recently acquired bounty. The Crescent of the Dead Moon was a fair distance from the rocky coast belonging to Minerva's Cradle. It was far enough in the distance to not be seen as a common stop over for ships, yet not so far as to be caught overloaded with treasures and no way to defend it. They would sail to the far southern end to scout for quiet nooks where they could stash their bounty.

"I am thinking we should put a bit of urgency into our direction, lads." Greyy said as she gave the new heading. Glancing back not really wanting to know what made the hungry growls from the ocean depths, yet mildly curious as to what the danger they had barely missed might have been.

Greyy marked their map with the coordinates of the entrance then dropped overboard the chest full of rub age tied to a floating line just off the coast to act as a marker and a decoy in case another felt the need to hunt their booty. The float was just under the surface of the water so as not to be seen unless directly over top of it.

After making several trips into a sunken cave mouth to deposit their marked chests it was time to leave the rest on board and turn towards the Port. The rising tide gave a perfect cover to the cave entrance acting as a deterrent to any who would wander seeking treasures.

"Fly away Home my boys! We have what we came for!" was the last call before they turned the "Vharcan" north retracing their path to Port Bistrot.

## Chapter 87

Port Bistrot, an appropriate name given because of many small restaurants and taverns, was highly used as a port of commerce and most notably for its fairly large saloon. It had once been a quiet country village but had grown to a size that was more befitting a city. Along with commerce and fine dining, the town had become a hot spot for underworld activity despite the Military presence. Criminal activity ran as thick as the ale, mostly to spite the Empire.

Most of the guards, both in the Navy and the Royal Command, found this den of mayhem a place to be seen and toss around perceived weight and power. Up and coming officers would come to the Port town, roust a few rowdies and return to their headquarters proud of the "accomplishments". None of the locals regarded any of those in uniform with any esteem or respect; however, this would be the perfect place to find a careless officer ripe to be bought for the simple price of a mug of Ale or two.

The crew from "Vharcan" had been given a shore leave. The taverns, pubs, and bath houses were ripe for fresh privateer blood to be introduced. Still heady from the recent plunder the Pirates were eager to sport their "spare change" and fancy jewels to any female who gave a second glance.

## Chapter 88

The Dark Elf disembarked along with the rest of the crew and made his way through the shadows to a large home at the upper end of town. Careful to not be followed he split from the crew making his way to the back servant's entrance. After a light rap at the door he disappeared into the darkness of the home.

Once inside the spacious dwelling he was led to an upstairs parlor where several other men were seated around a roaring fire. When the door closed behind him the others stood to greet the spy. Captain Jack Bishop, Horatio Washburn and the Captain of another Navy Vessel "Charming Charlie" Charlie Blaque turned to greet the newcomer and eager to hear what news he carried.

Several hours later the party broke. Each man left separately to carry out a small unsanctioned operation that would garner them recognition and praise from the Crown. The goal was to capture the Pirate vessel "Vharcan" and with that hopefully discover the home port of the unruly cutthroats putting their chaos and mayhem to an end.

After the majority of the crew of "Vharcan" had vanished into the mist of mayhem and foolishness Captain Greyy and Donny Porter whispered low over the wheel devising a plan to keep the young sailor part of the crew yet remain ashore. She wanted to leave him there as much to counter his fear of water as she needed a spy in the town to assure their plans was successful. When the "Vharcan" was away she would need a reliable crewman in which to pass information.

With orders firmly in place Donny was sent ashore with a satchel full of special items, one of which was a pigeon to be used as a carrier of notes. A trick Greyy and her sister had used ages past was to find a pair of nesting birds, the mates would always find each other no matter the distance. The girls would send coded notes and stories to each other as a game of wits in an attempt to prove how clever they were. This knowledge was adopted and now used in much the same way, yet with a more sinister goal.

Securing a corner room in a small back alley boarding house, Donny Porter began to unpack his few belongings and establish his base of operations for the Captain. She had given him a task that he looked forward to completing. Donning the costume of a less than capable noble, the young sailor gazed into the mirror and laughed at the reflection. So complete was the transformation he barely recognized himself. Confident that the disguise would allow him access to the seedy parts of town, as well as lure the desired riff raff he sauntered out to carry out his Captain's plan.

## Chapter 89

Taking no time or effort, he found where a young Officer was perched on the edge of a stool trying desperately to look important and fearsome. A mug of ale perched precariously at his elbow and several frighteningly gruesome females vying for his attention, the poor thing was trying to find any excuse to vacate his current post.

Being his first real opportunity to prove his value he tried desperately to get land legs back under himself. The short time at sea had given him the strong desire to ride the waves rather than the ridiculous mount that was offered when he arrived to town.

The opportunity opened and eager for the chase, Porter stepped into the street and began to scream like a little girl. This raised enough of a ruckus that the Officer was forced to investigate.

Quick as turtle and with as much grace as a beached whale the Officer leapt on his horse to pursue the trouble makers. His horse, bred for show and not speed, was a most elegant creature yet not sure of foot. Military training demanded action be taken swiftly and he spurred the horse to no avail, his charger gingerly crept through the streets as if not wishing to get its hooves dirty. Lightly stepping over debris and other items on the ground the show pony tip toed through the streets.

Becoming annoyed with the beast, Roland White began to kick harder and then use a whip in attempt to motivate the horse into moving faster. While the horse was being finicky about where it did and didn't want to run, the chase was getting away as was Roland's hope of recognition or promotion. He was finally able to get some motivation to the lack luster mount and once again followed the diminishing echoes of trouble.

Running through the streets flailing arms and legs, screaming like he was on fire Porter lead the chase towards the ship. Looking back several times he found that he had lost his tail and was forced to wait while the Naval Officer caught up with him. Half way to the ship a couple thugs tried to rob Porter. Whispering for the robbers to continue to pursue as he passed, they followed a bit befuddled but more than happy to oblige. Finally within sight of the "Vharcan" the sailor ducked into a hideaway the two hoodlums crouched with him waiting to see what the Officer would do and completely distracted by the potential of embarrassing one of the local constabulary.

## Chapter 90

Sure as the sun rises when Roland saw the ship bobbing in the harbor all alone his curiosity was piqued as to forget the grand chase he had been on originally. White stopped mid stride and gazed at the "Vharcan" with wide eyed wonder. He figured it was up to something less than legal considering it was harbored alone and had the gang plank lowered, not to mention its menacing color choice. No crew was visible so he figured a trip up to investigate would be note worthy. Tying the worthless mount at the bottom of the gangplank he slowly made way up to the deck.

Desperate to hide a chuckle Porter covered his mouth with both hands. After regaining control he let out a low whistle and retreated back into the shadows. Pulling the other two thugs back with him, they sat and watched as the scene unfolded.

A blazing sunset silhouetted the ship's masts and sails in an almost elegant image of a sturdy sailing ship. The clear blue still visible peeking from behind the painted clouds gave a perfect background for the figure that stepped up to the plank and looked down to the docks. The Captain, tapping into her female charms, had dressed for the occasion. A long skirt hiked by a silk ribbon at her waist revealed a long shapely leg adorned by a low sandal tied half way up her calf. The black corset secured by red cording hugged her curves and supported her bosoms enhancing the female curves covered by the dark blue blouse. Her hair was fashioned in a long braid that flowed over her shoulder teasing her breast and showing off the pierced elf ears in such an adoring fashion few were able to look away from their graceful curve. Her hands resting on her hips she greeted the unsuspecting Navy Officer who was already more than half way up the plank. Stepping aside she welcomed him aboard a wicked smile curling at her lips as she made one last glance over the rails to her spy on the docks.

"Welcome aboard the "Vharcan", Officer. You are an Officer, yes? I am Captain of this vessel." she said in a voice smooth as brandy.

He was barely able to clear the rails when she nuzzled in close to him leading him to a quiet corner of the deck where a table was already set as if she was prepared for a visitor. A tall burning candle and an elegant bottle adorned the middle of the covered surface. The light dinner she had prepared rested on a sideboard awaiting the moment to inspire and amaze. Circling close around him, Greyy lead him to a seat and dished a plate which she served with elegant flair and lavish attention to showing off her own female beauty. Then without explanation or prompting she poured a tall goblet of Savage Ale, knowing full well the effects would be rather dramatic from one holding secrets of an entire Military establishment.

## Chapter 91

The evening waned and the Ale flowed free, but Roland was far too drunk to notice that his host was not intoxicated in the least. After the meal and several more goblets of Ale he became rather giddy and flirtatious. Finding her moment to strike, she led him to more comfortable quarters. Passing the rails she gave the signal to her look out on the docks before proceeding to a chamber where the good Officer would be more apt to speak freely.

On a low fainting couch with soft pillows and luxurious tapestries the Captain stroked the young Crewman's face as she lulled him into a drunken stupor. Her low tones and quiet charms relaxed him into such a state as to tell all of the military secrets and outposts, patrol routs and convoy shipments that he knew. The information gathered that night was priceless!

When Roland White was completely unconscious help was summoned to assist him back to the bar where he was originally found. Quickly scribing the information she unearthed, Greyylene sent word back to Kerrs Redgrave that same night so as not to forget any detail.

Pleased with her deception she retired to her quarters only to discover a small vial left over from White's stay. It was a potion that sent a shiver down her spine wondering if the information she had just sent was accurate.

The news of her Savage Ale had traveled before her and it seemed as though Roland had been prepared. Closer examination of the contents she found he had not actually taken much of the potion, so perhaps some of what he had said was indeed real. She sent another message to Kerrs asking for a private meeting before any decisions were to be made.

## Chapter 92

Leaving Porter in the town as a spy for the "Vharcan", Greyylene set out to rendezvous with Kerrs. As they traveled she studied the bottle of potion she had discovered. Almost certain that it was not some kind of explosive she decided to look more closely at the contents. Not wishing to 'test' the potion on anyone she was forced to use a rat from the hold as a subject. Feeding the rodent enough hard liquor to knock most of her crew over the rails she then dropped a bit of the potion into the rat's mouth and watched.

She half expected the vermin to convulse and explode into a puff of fur and smoke, but what she witnessed was nothing short of amazing! The rat, who had before been stumbling about barely able to walk, suddenly began to run circles around the small cage, climbing the walls and seeking with diligence a way to escape. Those of the crew who knew of the experiment were amazed at the outcome of the rodent. This was certainly a new avenue in the road to drunken stupors and alcohol induced interrogations.

Returning to her quarters she carefully hid the new potion in a small chest with the Savage Ale. She made a small note of its contents and tied the parchment around the neck of the bottle before slipping it carefully in between two pieces of wood to keep it secure. Closing the chest and setting the lock she hid her treasure back in its hole under her bunk.

The chest itself was rather rugged looking and quite easily over looked, but its technology was a bit more complicated. There were key holes on the front of the box, but they were only as deep as the metal from whence they were forged, and designed to deceive. The top of the box had an intricate inlaid design of metal strapping and carved wood patterns. Most of the rosettes were of different faces and each held a key hole. The correct key hole cleverly hidden behind one of the inlaid panels melted into the rest of the design on the top. When the hole was revealed by lifting up the box to insert the key into a post underneath, it then released the locking mechanism allowing the key to turn multiple tumblers simultaneously and loose the catch.

With the Ale and the 'remedy' safely tucked back in the hiding place the Captain was better able to focus her attentions on things at hand, like the information she was given and the consequences of it. She knew that Kerrs would want to plan an immediate attack, given the intelligence she was given, but she wasn't completely convinced it was accurate. The discovery of the remedy gave her serious concerns.

## Chapter 93

Heading North by North West the "Vharcan" and "Terror of the Seas" made their way to the village of New Hope. Originally settled by a cult group of humans as a way station for trade, it became more popular to outlaws, thugs and wild beasts. The people were constantly being invaded or attacked by some unruly band of cutthroats giving the settlement the dubious nick name of No Hope.

It was here that the Naval Officer had stated that the Navy would be collecting a shipment of valuable jewels, textiles and tax revenues to transport back to the Royal Coffers. This information was far too juicy to ignore!

## Chapter 94

Returning to his post Roland White was feeling a bit less than his normal self. His head was swimming with images of beautiful women and ferocious beasts. He vaguely remembered seeing himself drooling over the woman captain but not really minding at all that he was making a complete mess of his uniform. The memories of an amazing meal fit for a king along with a drink so fine and smooth it could not be compared with anything he'd ever tasted rushed him like a tidal wave.

Enjoying the fond memories of the evening as they played back in his mind gave his step a little lilt. Over and over in his mind's eye he savored the vision of the female beauty that showered him with attention and charm. Then the recollection of what he had done stopped him dead in his tracks. He was horrified at himself for being so easily taken by a pretty girl. His face drained of all color and his steps came to a halt. He stood in the middle of the street as he realized what he had to do.

With a heavy sigh he altered his direction and reported to the headquarters building on the outskirts of town. He had not been summoned to report but waiting would mean bigger trouble than what he knew he was in already.

Assigned to keep an eye on the good Officer Roland, Donny Porter followed the woebegone fellow to the Navy Headquarters building. He had changed into something a bit easier to blend in with the streets and had essentially gone unnoticed by the one he followed.

Pausing outside the office of naval affairs Roland White was almost sick to his stomach. He knew that giving away military secrets of any sort was grounds for severe disciplinary action and possibly dismissal or worse. The fact he had been so undone by strong drink and a beautiful woman added to his shame.

After his eyes adjusted to the darkly lit room Roland found a chair and sat down knowing that if he didn't sit he would pass out from anxiety. A smirk on the secretary's face was interpreted as mocking but when the door of the small office belonging to the Navy liaison officer opened things began to spin violently out of control.

"Mr. Roland White, do come in. We've been expecting you." The voice behind the desk echoed through the hall.

With knees weak and wobbly Roland tried to collect himself as best he could before walking to the office to face his fate.

## Chapter 95

Outside the building Donny Porter heard the summons and was unnerved at the intonations. He didn't see the facial expression but the almost laughing lilt in the booming voice spoke of one with a sinister plan well played. Around the building he ran until he found the window where the meeting was taking place. Staying to the shadows as best he could for the middle of the day he listened eagerly to what wickedness the Navy had in store.

Still feeling ill and hoping he would not be set in front of a firing squad White made his way inside and happily took the seat that was offered. The silence seemed to last for an eternity until his Captain entered and greeted the Liaison officer with a friendly handshake. Both of the men looked at Roland and tried to conceal their amusement.

"I think we should inform him, Jack." Liaison Officer Joel Tinbrook said with a grin.

"Well I must say I hate to see one of my crew looking so green. Either his little night with the Siren didn't go very well, or it went much better than he figured and now he thinks he's in a world of hurt. It would be best to fill him in I think."

"Mr. Roland White, you have been a part of a plot to bring the scurvy pirates to justice once and for all." Tinbrook stated with a nod. He was perched at the edge of his desk with his arms folded across his chest and feet crossed like he was speaking to a wayward child.

"We knew that "Vharcan" was in harbor and that the crew would be hunting for some unsuspecting Officer to try to seduce. I had no doubt their wily captain would try to play her female charms against one of the many who are stationed here.

You were stationed to walk the grounds because I figured either you or Horatio would be the best ones to be found first. I am confident you did not speak of anything more than what you knew first hand. I know this because what I told you was specifically planted to get those salty pirates to a destination of my choosing.

We will be in wait for them and will bring the whole lot to justice. You, sir, played your part famously! So relax Roland, there's even a promotion in it for you! In fact you will be given the rank of Petty Officer effective immediately." Joel completed with a huge grin plastered across his face almost giddy at his own wit.

He gave Roland a hand shake and salute before turning to speak to Jack Bishop with further details.

After the announcement had sunk in a bit Roland again felt weak kneed and light headed, the room began to spin and he feared he would either be sick all over the lovely carpet or unceremoniously pass out landing in a heap on the floor. He sat still and stunned trying to remember to breathe while the subtlety of the plot sank into his rattled brain.

## Chapter 96

Outside the window Donny Porter was also stunned at the announcement. Quietly he raced from his hiding place and skirted around the back alley ways taking a long rout to his room. Nothing in the town was certain except the fact that the Navy was tricky and not to be taken lightly. He had to send word to his captain immediately!

Attaching the small bamboo carrying case to the leg of his pigeon he inserted the one word message and sent the bird off to find its mate. He could only hope the pigeon would arrive in time.

Greyy found Kerrs on the outside edge of Port Bistrot sailing fast towards New Hope. They traveled together for several hours taking inventory of crew and ammunitions before meeting on the "Terror of the Seas" to discuss the plans. The waters in the Northern shores were a bit more exciting and prone to violent storms with no notice. The two vessels made their way slow and steady keeping within view of the shores and taking advantage of the fair weather.

The seas were calm and the winds steady allowing the crews of both ships opportunity to ready for potential battle and the desired outcome of great bounty. Greyylene, still with an uneasy feeling deep in her gut, sat at the forecastle deck watching the waves and the sky dance at the steady drone of the tide against the hull.

It was her general practice when her mind was in turmoil to find a secluded place and this was generally one of the few available. She knew, without a doubt, that the information was true, but her concern was if it was complete. Before the good officer had passed out a look in his eye gave her a moment of hesitation. There was more to his report than what he told her, of that she was certain.

Two days and the sense of uneasy dread did not dissipate, and the arrival of a small pigeon from Mr. Porter solidified the feeling of something horribly wrong. The note attached to the leg of the small bird bore a single word that sent a cold chill down her spine. "AMBUSH" was scrawled across the parchment in bold letters and an urgent slant.

Releasing the bird to find its way back to Porter she informed Kerrs of the new threat. They were far too committed to the current course to change direction or purpose. Quietly but with great urgency Greyy walked her deck whispering new orders stirring a mass of focused frenzy in her wake. She knew the approaching battle would indeed be something exciting and she was not going to be caught completely unaware, or so it was the goal.

## Chapter 97

Sailing past the harbor of New Hope just outside the town boundaries and covered by a small peninsula the ships made ready to invade the Navy outpost. Scouts from each ship were sent to the town and each returned with the same report. There was indeed a Navy stash of gold and treasures, but there was also a heavy show of guards. The bounty would be hard won, but the Pirate crews were determined to make their names in this town.

Still with the warning in the back of her mind, Greyylene moved forward staying to the shadows. Her special skills in remaining well hidden would be useful should things go terribly wrong. She and her raiding party edged through the light forest on the outskirts of town watching for anything that may indicate dirty play. Thinking as a criminal was not something that had been second nature to her way of living, but she quickly adapted to the life for the sake of survival.

Quietly the parties most familiar with ship battles were eager to test their land legs in a test of wit and stamina. Without the benefit of the rhythm of waves on wood they had to find a new flow to allow their feet and attacks to sing in harmony with one another. Greyy was one of the few more familiar with land hunts than sea battles, but even she was in needed to keep her head clear and focused.

With woods surrounding the small town on all sides it was easy to see why this town was raided often. It was given to easy attacks with few look out locations and no way to defend itself with natural barriers. Even with a military presence the town was a target too ripe to pass.

They snuck into the unsuspecting town from every direction. The orders were clear, kill anything with a Navy uniform even a damn chicken if need be. First blood was shed when Kerrs came upon a sailor flirting with a local tavern wench. Her scream stifled by Kerrs' kiss as the Navy sailor was left in a heap of bleeding ick at her feet. Moving quickly through each building the Pirates picked off Navy sailors and officers one by one until the word got out and the alarm was sounded.

## Chapter 98

Finally a battle worthy of pirate lore and legend broke the still of the lazy town. The ring and echo of blades singing and gunshots pounding like bass drums announced the threat causing townies to flee. Screams and grunts mixed with the clash of blades and accented the low whistle of arrows from high places. Never satisfied to stay in one place or to allow a battle to run away the Pirates weaved and dodged and chased the enemy up and down the streets as the tide of the seas they commanded. Utter chaos and yet such fluid movements made the scene look as much like a dance as a battle.

From somewhere Kegan the Mad, from Greyy's ship, and Bud Hollow from Kerrs' found gun powder kegs and were thrilled at the chance to use the Navy supply without fear of rationing.

Remembering the order to kill anything in Navy reds, including a chicken, the two crewmen found a jolly joke in rigging a tall red rooster with small vials of gun powder, one of which was set to leave a trail behind his wild path. Spooking the bird into an insane chase of panic and pandemonium they set it on a course straight to the building that housed offices of the Navy presence.

The fowl ran in the door, around feet and legs of soldiers and sailors, back under some bar maid pretending to be unconcerned of the surrounding uproar, before fleeing further into the building. Waiting for the perfect moment Kegan set the gun powder trail ablaze and the two watched from the safety of a nearby building as the sparks sizzled a trail to mass destruction. The last thing that was heard was the hilarious laughter as the chicken exploded sending feathers, guards, and office papers flying.

"Look, Chickens do fly!" roared Kegan from behind a wall.

Far too proud of themselves the two mischievous pirates were almost discovered as they sat enjoying the aftermath of their brutality to the rooster. They were both doubled over laughing watching feathers, papers and pieces of furniture fly and flutter in the breeze, that they almost missed the guards approaching from behind. Tears still in their eyes they leapt from the hiding place wielding their blades and letting out savage war hollers sounding more like a small army than only two individuals.

They raced towards the middle of the square where many of the other Pirate crewmates were heavy in combat with vastly unprepared guards of the town. The distraction of the crews was perfectly set for the small raiding party to sneak in and begin unloading the valuable loot. Bags and chests of gold and other valuables found their way out to new homes with the profiteers.

Just as quickly as the fighting had begun it was over. When the last bag and chest was liberated signal flairs arced in the sky and the final battle cry was heard. The sailors were far too eager for their portions to dilly dally any further with these sub par guardians. Giving a mocking salute Kerrs pulled out of the harbor first with Greyy's ship not far behind him.

## Chapter 99

Well on the way to meet back at Port Redgrave, the island hideaway Kerrs had personally founded, "Terror of the Seas" outpaced "Vharcan" promising to reach the Port first. The pirates were fairly certain that the Navy did not know of its existence and consequently of its where about. Kerrs was confident after the battles of the day they would remain ignorant. Both Captains gave orders to take the split loot below decks to be divvied back on the Island.

Smiling and laughing as they worked the crew of "Vharcan" heady from the adventure and confident of their getaway barely noticed the figure sitting in the corner under the wheelhouse. When Greyylene set foot on deck she knew immediately who was there, it was if she could feel his presence. Ignoring the irritating rudeness she continued her task to ready the ship to sail before addressing their passenger.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain." came the soft reply from Sir Gilead.

He chuckled to himself as he sat and watched the crew scurry around like ants stowing cargo, trimming sails and securing ropes and other riggings.

"Did you see that chicken?" he asked half to himself and half to whomever was near. The ensuing laughter was irritating to the Captain who wanted to be rid of the Healer sooner than later.

"Honestly, Captain, your crewmen did a proper job at entertaining as well as distracting in the day's battle. I would daresay that the Navy will be anxious for a rematch.

I realize my presence is a bit unexpected, but I assure you I mean no harm and will be well out of your way. I was just in need of safe passage to some island or other and I was certain you would not mind if I joined you." Sir Gil said with a charming smile settling back in the corner.

Spirits soaring and eager to exchange battle tales, the crew hurried to store the booty in the cargo hold and return to duty stations. The only member of the "Vharcan" that was not happy was their Captain. Her discomfort still weighed heavy hanging over her like a dark fog. She knew the battles in the town were far too easy, and the message from Mr. Porter did nothing to ease her mind.

On a whim she sent note to Kerrs' ship that she would break off their course and head South then East to the rendezvous point at their Island. It would take an extra day, but she wanted to stop at the other island chain in which to store their bounty before anyone else got wise to their actions.

## Chapter 100

One day after she changed her direction a call came from the crow's nest. Another vessel flying the Royal colors had been spotted off their port side. Well aware that this was most likely the ambush she had been warned; Greyylene quickly studied her maps and charted a new course to an island outcrop due south of their current setting.

Her plan was to ditch the treasure in the hiding spot, mark it on the maps and return later. With the wind at their backs the smaller "Vharcan" quickly lost sight of the other craft, but set full sails to their destination hoping for a place to find cover before the other vessel caught them. It wouldn't be far from Port Redgrave and saving half the bounty would be greater than losing it all to the authorities.

Looming in the distance was a dark stone outcropping. The tall mountain ridge commanded the horizon with an ominous darkness. The seas grew angry as the trespassers continued towards their mark. Even the sky, that had been clear, ushered in rolling thunder heads the closer they got to the cliffs. The waves began to take on a testy atmosphere and tossed the boat about like a toy in a child's bath water. Having been threatened with capsizing they decided to give in to the watery tantrum and change directions into the winds.

Greyy found a small cave opening at one of the smaller outcroppings when they were forced off course by the turbulent weather. The cave was tall enough to accommodate the "Vharcan" in the current tidal state, but threatened to trap them in a rising current. The risk was far too great not to unload the treasures. It was inevitable that the Royal vessel that had given chase would soon catch up and they would be boarded and searched. With that in mind the crew quickly unloaded the cargo and marked the cave walls with their stamp in case any others ventured too close.

Retreating from the cave in just enough time to watch the mouth fill with water and disappear beneath the waves Greyy and the crew moved closer to the main island. Around a small bend they came face to face with one who would soon become her personal nemesis, Horatio Washburn Lieutenant aboard the "Avenger" of the Royal Navy.

The only thing that kept the two ships from colliding was a wave that broke between the two vessels. The sound of groaning wood and sailors from both ships yelling mingled in with the harsh pounding waves and the hollow echo of wind blowing through the narrow passages in the rock face. Turning the wheel hard causing the "Vharcan" to careen dangerously close to capsizing they missed the larger vessel by barely a sails breath. Listing hard to starboard they caught a wind and were away before both ships became fish food.

## Chapter 101

The Naval vessel "Avenger" was a good bit larger than the "Vharcan" but also slower. Captained by Jack Bishop with his newly appointed Lieutenant named Horatio Washburn she was on a probationary mission to prove a plan that had been devised by the young Lieutenant. Hoping to find the home island to the Pirates the dark archipelago listed on the maps made for a perfect spot to begin a search. The ill-tempered seas and the sharp cliffs were not enough to deter the ambitious Officer from pursuing the idea to find his prey.

The crew on the "Vharcan" looked to be vastly inferior, at least in dress. Her crew was without the snappy uniforms and boots of the other Navy ship, in fact her crew was more often than not barely clothed and always barefoot. Long hair with adornments of beads, shells and some coins was the more common look on board compared to the short cropped hair or neatly tucked pony tails of the other.

Coming face to face with the enemy authority tugged at the corners of the pirate lips. They itched to show these Navy dogs how to sail. It was commonly believed that the crew of the Pirates was vastly superior in their sailing ability and command of the ocean than any other crew riding the waves. Regardless of the ship or the captain the Pirates were some of the best sailors found.

Quiet commands across the deck of "Vharcan" showed the new Lieutenant that the spunky little vessel was full of piss and vinegar, and not to be taken lightly. Arming the blunder buss with anything they could find, too and including cutlery, Kegan took aim and was ready to clear their decks. Greyy with her fire arrows was also ready to make her presence felt when a thundering roar shook the seas and the crews of both ships hit the decks.

A cold shiver ran down Greyylene's spine when she saw where the noise had originated. High on the cliff stood a tall lone figure of a female. Her long white hair tossed wildly on the wind and her robes unfurled like a sail. Reaching for the spyglass Greyy peered at what was the single most frightening sight she had to date. The image was of an ageless woman with piercing black eyes and thick veined lines running across her milk white skin. Her thick ruby red lips were mouthing words that took a moment to carry down to the waters below.

"I WILL SEE YOU DESTROYED, HORATIO WASHBURN! MAKE NO MISTAKE ABOUT THAT." she yelled down just before muttering more.

The incantation she muttered could not be heard, but the effects were devastating. Only a few of the words could be heard above the wicked waves. The next moment her hands came together in a rolling fulguration of electric energy. The blue flame that roared down the cliff face engulfed both ships in a blinding light searing the sails and tossing the ships about like little toys.

A great explosion erupted across the deck of the "Avenger" splintering beams, rails and mast pieces everywhere. "Vharcan", who was slightly behind took less damage but no less devastating to the ears of the crew. Breathing heavily and more disheveled than before she watched across the bow as the Navy Captain and Lieutenant scrambled to keep afloat. Greyylene took the opportunity to maneuver them out of the Navy grasp; gazing back one last time with a defiant look in her eye the Pirate captain gave a saucy wink and a mocking salute to the Navy commander as they disappeared into the horizon.

## Chapter 102

Standing in a corner out of the way and in the shadows Sir Gilead watched the altercation with a deep sense of dread. He knew this meeting was only the beginning of a long run between the young Navy Officer and his new found nemesis Captain Greyylene. The two would be intertwined in fate as they would soon need to battle a common enemy. How their stories would unfold was a matter for Time to decide, and he hoped he would remain firmly cast in the middle to keep close eye on all that transpired.

Repairs were definitely needed and a new plan was required for Greyylene to return in order to retrieve her stowed booty. Neither crew looked twice on the other but merely made note that there would come another time they would indeed face each other again in the heat of an ocean battle. This marked the day where Pirates and Navy had become open enemies, no longer playing cat and mouse games with each other, but committed to outdoing the other as frequently as possible.

Greyylene took to the lower decks as soon as they were out of sight of the Navy vessel. Her task was to inspect the damage caused not only by the sharp turn avoiding the sea rats, but also to see what the blue flames had done. Surface damage was fairly obvious and superficial, but the weakening of the hull gave her a cause to pause. When they reached their port a more thorough examination would be in order.

She had finished the tour of the top two decks and was heading to the hold when a strange whistle was heard in the crew section. Sitting on a rack was a small sailor with long braids and tattoos on everything showing playing with a large piece of rock. The stone he held was so dark that it almost looked like a shadow. As he was holding it and tossing it about the rock had taken a blue hue to the edges and was releasing a shrill whistle like a boiling tea pot.

Before she had a chance to take the stone the sailor dropped it and let out a squeal. Marginally surprised at the little girl exclamation from the hardened sailor all attention was focused on the piece of cradle rock sitting on the floor. The blue had grown darker and showed veins in the deep ebony surface. It had also started to smolder and smoke as if ready to burst into flame. The moments watching for continued reaction seemed an eternity, the fate of the crew hinged on the whim of some mineral smuggled aboard by an idiot sailor!

Finally the smoldering subsided and the task of deciding what to do came down to a final vote. The Captain was all for throwing the damned thing overboard. Several of the crew was interested in allowing the local magic man to examine and study it. The quarter master took the final tally and the majority decided to keep the stone locked away safely until they reached Kerrs. With that done, Greyylene reluctantly folded the object in an empty barley bag and took it to her cabin to be placed in the chest with the stash of Savage Ale.

## Chapter 103

Course change lay in and the sails full the "Vharcan" sailed fast as the waves and wind would carry her to the Island of Port Redgrave and the rest of the Pirate clan. Her expediency was heightened by the 'threat' sitting looking so innocently menacing next to her prized Ale. The Captain would be more than happy to be rid of that hunk of malevolence as quickly as possible.

She was well aware that there was something horribly wrong with that thing. Every time she passed it her teeth would ring and buzz, the hair on the back of her neck would stand on edge and the bottoms of her feet would tingle as if walking in a briar patch. The crew began to feel its ominous aura as well, and the closer they got to Port the greater the tension grew.

A day and half after the confrontation with the Navy and the strange Arch Mage Port Redgrave was finally in sight. The call of "Land Hooo" sent a relieved sigh across the whole deck. As soon as they were moored the crew disembarked so fast some thought the ship was on fire.

Greyylene and Kegan were the last off the ship, Kegan carting the chest from Greyy's office. They went straight to Kerrs' without any of the usual introductions and fan fairs setting the chest at his feet. Ignoring the glares and leering from other sailors Greyy knelt at the box and placed her hand on the top of the chest giving it a little push and twist to unlock the mechanism that held the lid tight.

When she opened the case a blue haze filled the space. Her first thought was that it had contaminated her Ale and she was horrified. Only after that did she begin to wonder what the haze had done to the People!

Taking out bottles of the Savage Ale she examined them closely to see what fiendish magic this rock had done. The bottles closest to the stone had indeed been altered, to what extent she was unwilling to experiment.

Setting aside the tainted bottles to dispose of later, she then retrieved the bag with the cradle rock sample. She handed the bag to Kegan, who in turn was to take it to Kerrs. Kegan was as superstitious as any sailor and knew this was a horrible omen, so held the bag at arm's length and muttered warding spells and incantations the whole way over to where the leader of the Pirates sat.

## Chapter 104

Sir Gilead had tried to make as quiet and subtle appearance as possible, but it became clear that he would soon need to be summoned, at least that was his hope. His curiosity had become overwhelming and he wandered closer to where the Pirates were meeting.

Gazing at the package even Kerrs became troubled and jumped back so fast he tipped his stool. When the bag was opened and the offending item was revealed he hollered for the Monk to be brought in immediately and began making religious signs and chants. As Gil entered the room the pendant around his neck began to change colors. He nodded to Greyylene as he crossed to where the others sat. The looks on the Pirate faces bore a stark contrast to the Monk's calm demeanor.

Without saying anything to anyone Sir Gilead sat on a low bench next to the fire where the others had been gathered and examined the dark stone. Bowing his head and closing his eyes as if in some deep meditation to a Higher Power lightly whispering words of power, he held the stone in both hands. Remaining in that state and repeating the words over and over, the audience watched in fascinated silence waiting to see what would happen next.

Shortly the blue veins in the dark rock began to glow again and the pendant around Sir Gilead's neck turned frightening shades of black, silver and gray. The air around him became charged with an energy that could almost be seen, and the rock and pendant almost seemed to be battling with one another. His words became louder and the silver glow on his pendant began to dominate the air and engulf both the Monk and the rock. Then in an anticlimactic puff of fizzled smoke the dark stone in his hands lost its glow and became nothing more than a pebble on the beach.

His eyes still closed and breathing rather heavily the Monk laid the impotent hunk of earth on the ground at his feet. Kerrs nodded to another crewmate to bring a mug of rum to the Monk, and as he took it Sir Gil began a story that kept all mesmerized.

## Chapter 105

"Many years earlier there was a great ruler in the land. He was a lord of Washburn Manor and those who worked his lands adored him and his family. He was kind and benevolent, patient with the serfs around him and generous to those in need. He would allow strangers access and welcomed all with open hospitality.

One cold and stormy night a slight frail girl passed the gates to the town outside Washburn Manor. She found refuge in a local inn and there met one of the Washburn sons. After hearing her tale of woe he took pity on her and brought her back to the Manor. He did not realize that she was a sorceress in training. Her magic and power were great, but her pride had been the reason for her banishment.

When they arrived at the young man's home she was introduced to the lord and lady of the house. The girl was named Minerva and she immediately found herself smitten with lord Washburn. She vowed in her heart that night she would not die before she took him for her own. So deep was her lust that she never saw the bond of love and devotion that her object shared with his wife alone.

Days meandered past and Minerva's lust became stronger and more destructive, along with her magic. On a moonless night the sorceress summoned dark forces to work an evil plot on the wife of her desire. She would kill the wife and use her blood in a potion that would cause lord Washburn to look on her with the same love and passion he gazed upon his wife. What the witch had not noticed was that lady Washburn was with child and her husband had become so doting on her that they were rarely apart.

Frustrated and enraged Minerva returned to her chambers to devise a new plan. Her desire was to also bear a child to lord Washburn and the off spring of such a union would disgrace him in front of his adoring wife. She would be forced to choose her affections.

This plan also was destined to fail in grand misery. The tie and bond between the couple was so strong, and so complete that even the clever disguise the witch used was not enough to fool him. He recognized her for who and what she had become and immediately banished her from the kingdom. On leaving she made a blood oath that she would not rest until all the Washburn Men were destroyed!

Years later the brothers of lord and lady Washburn not only lived, but thrived. Her oath was left dangling in the air weak and useless, until she discovered an island dominated with a powerful earth essence of ageless evil. She had discovered an outcropping of Cradle Rock, a most awesome source for channeling sinister powers. She had studied the ancient catacombs and caves discovering a deep chamber with words scrawled in an ancient language on the sides of the wall. Deciphering and harnessing the text consumed her, as the rocks around her ate at her body and soul. Soon she had discovered the key to unlocking the codes."

Pausing from the story, Sir Gilead looked up and again caught the eye of Greyylene. Holding her gaze he continued.

"The first of the Washburn males to find injury was the oldest son who had joined the Royal Militia. He was sent on an errand for the State to hunt a couple of dangerous fugitives who had been running through the lands raining down terror on all they passed. It turned out the couple in question was of Elf heritage and found them in an ambush at a local pub. The couple was killed, and it was believed that the Commander of the Militia was also."

With that last statement he broke his gaze from the Captain and took a long guzzle from his mug. Setting aside his mug and wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve the Monk continued the story.

"The Island Minerva found refuge was soon to be named Minerva's Cradle, due to the crescent shape and her penchant for hunting young children to offer in her evil rites. She would cross the shallows between the mainland and her island to steal children of the villages. That would soon be known as the Melancholy Straights."

Once again Sir Gil looked at the rock then back to Greyylene. His eyes grew sad again.

"It would seem, Captain Greyy, that you have discovered not only Minerva's hide out but also the current leader of Washburn Manor." he said before taking another long gulp of his rum.

## Chapter 106

While Sir Gilead was sitting regaling the others of the crew with his tale two of the most restless pirates in the band of outlaws wandered off to find their own amusement. Kegan and Buddy stole away somewhat quietly and found the bottles of corrupted Ale that Greyylene had set aside earlier.

They figured the bottles were meant to be wasted in a horrible display of "alcohol abuse" and dumped, so the two renegades devised another alternative. Rather than dumping the soiled rot gut they would drink it, discarding the contents and satisfying their thirst at the same time. They had no way of realizing what a fiendish combination the magic of the Savages and the magic of the Cradle Rock would create.

Only a few bottles split between the two and the seasoned sailors were well past pickled as they staggered back to the camp. Their jolly show of inebriated inhibitions cast the others into a stunned silence as the two danced about and joked with each other completely oblivious of their impending plight.

The bottles they held were being shaken mixing the contents to a volatile fizzle. As they continued to drink a long inky black line traced through their veins from their necks down their arms and coursed through them in a slow toxic path that the others could watch.

Kegan was the first to notice the line tracing across his bare skin when he went to take a long pull from the open bottle. The sight on his hand and arm startled him into terrified sobriety. Throwing the bottle as far as he could it landed with a mild explosion of blue flames and billowing smoke killing several small animals and a few crabs that had been too close. Buds, however, found the scene rather hilarious and continued to drink from his bottle.

Sir Gilead jumped to assist the two sailors, but was still weakened from the power drain he used to defuse the larger rock. The pendant around his neck began to glow a terrifying bronze as he approached them. As Sir Gil reached for Kegan's hand a surge of electric energy blasted from the Monk's hand into the Pirate's. Kegan stumbled over a nearby log and ended up sitting in the sand shaking a bit more than he would care to admit. Buddy was driven to an insane rage at the approach of the Monk and turned running into the woods, a trail of inky ale following him.

He had far too much of a head start to follow with any hope of catching up so the crews watched the fleeting form of the Pirate. Those from "Vharcan" were unnerved by what had happened, but those who followed Kerrs were intrigued. Some of the crew were already plotting a way to return to where the Monk had said the rocks could be found hoping to bring back more in order to entertain and amuse themselves.

## Chapter 107

Several days passed after the incident with the two sailors. Greyylene had disposed of the rest of the contaminated Ale and stored her Savage Ale more carefully back at her cabin on board the "Vharcan". Kegan was more distant and quiet than normal and Buddy had wandered so far off no one knew where he was.

Late on a night full of stars and a full moon Buddy came back to the camp carting a bag full of bounty. He sought Kegan first, needing the strength of the giant to assist in carting his bag up the stairs of their make shift pub. Once on the roof Buddy revealed his errand of the last few days.

He had rowed back to the island of Minerva in a small dingy and collected more of the dark stones. The Ale had been such a big rush for him he was determined to create more on his own. His only catch was he did not have the same knowledge that Kegan did in making the original Ale, nor did he know the proper words to use in order to play with the cradle rocks.

Reluctant to assist in something that was obviously volatile as the Cradle Rock, Kegan tried to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible. The weakness of every Pirate or Sailor is their penchant for a hearty drink. It didn't take too much more convincing for the two to once again be elbow deep in drunken idiocy.

Buddy had found something close to plans for a distillery in which to make moonshine. He adopted the little bit that he knew of the Savage Ale, which was next to nothing short of it being ale, and tinkered modifications that he felt would be appropriate. After a few hours of setting the ingredients into motion he added a piece of Cradle Rock to a glass vial. The rock immediately began to bubble and fizz violently threatening to explode.

Carefully they backed away and waited for the impending explosion. Having nothing happen Buddy cautiously as a runaway freight wagon stepped toward the still and tweaked the contraption some more.

"Careful, Buddy, that's a might nasty thing there ye got." warned Kegan.

"I know what I'm doin!" snapped back Buddy just before the bubbling fizzle erupted again in a loud boom and a billowing cloud of blue flame and smoke.

"Oh Yeah you know what you're doing." Kegan retorted after they had discovered themselves still in one piece.

Apparently he did have some degree of knowledge because the liquid that was produced looked something close to ingestible. Buddy poured a short mug of the new brew and immediately coughed like a greenhorn at his first pub.

"Oh yeah, this is the good stuff." he rasped out between coughing fits.

## Chapter 108

The explosion brought everyone on a run to the pub, and when it was discovered the madness behind the mayhem a festive party ensued. Kerrs was thrilled to have something new that belonged only to His crew! Not even the Navy Dogs would want to touch this stuff. Buddy was instructed to repeat the process as often as it was necessary and use whatever means necessary to keep the Island flowing in this new Cradle Rock Ale!

The discovery of the simple nondescript, harmless looking, dark rocks that held such a terrible power were an overwhelming sadness that could not be easily undone. They held a curse that none could have foreseen. It seemed that any who were in proximity would become highly unstable and belligerent just like the rocks themselves. Noble creatures big and small, aggressive or peaceful would turn vicious and unmanageable when the infection took them. As Sir Gilead had discovered it was the Magic that coursed through the stones that gave them the power to creep from one living being to another.

When the simple words of power, Sir Gil tried desperately to keep from the pirate crew, were uttered near a stone it would erupt in a violent explosion. Anything that was near the point of ignition or covered in the thick sinister blue cloud would turn into a raving maniac. The Pirates felt that the sinister curse coursing through their veins was a source of power. They felt it would give them an added bonus over their new adversary, the Royal Navy.

The inhabitants of the small island began recreating the masterpiece of violent festivities immediately. They could see no good reason to wait or to stop what they did; in fact they reasoned to themselves that the victory over the Navy port was cause enough for celebration. They refused to see or heed any warnings from the Monk, who they thought nothing more than one trying to spoil their fun, or from Greyy, who they figured wanted it all for herself.

The curse of Minerva that was unleashed on the Pirates would have a far reaching affect, the likes of which had not been seen in the realm for generations. If there was a cure it would need to be discovered sooner than later, or the world would never be the same.

Those of Greyylene's crew were already cursed and knew that adding any more to that would be foolhardy at best. The fact such a vile concoction had been used with her Savage Ale made her ill to even consider the ramifications. She vowed to store her prize more carefully.

## Chapter 109

After seeing the horrors that came from the new Cradle Rock Ale Kegan melted into the back ground as quietly as his large frame would allow. He remembered the thick black lines that inched through him like a poison and was reluctant to allow further participation of anything having to do with the wicked brew. He had made his way back to his ship and was sitting in a corner when Greyylene found him. She also had serious misgivings of the new party brew, but the only recourse was to avoid the others. All of her warnings and pleadings had fallen on hostile deaf ears.

The next morning most of the crew of "Vharcan" was aboard ship early. Common sense and the fact they were already a damned crew dictated that they withdraw from the debauchery shared by the others of their clan. A note was left for Kerrs that they would be sailing for new ports in hopes of discovering a safer hideaway for loot. Captain Greyy hoped to be well out of port and on her way anywhere long before Kerrs was conscious. The rest of the deck hands shared in her immediacy and worked quick and quietly to make their departure.

The order was given to raise the plank and hoist anchor when a low whistle caught the attention of the deckhand at the rails. The Monk stood tall and confident at the end of the walk waiting for permission to come aboard.

"Granted, Monk. come aboard."

"All I need is to be safely off this island. You can drop me at the nearest land mass or whichever port you wish." He answered.

He preferred to make himself useful rather than sit and watch as the crew scurried about their tasks. Sir Gil shed his outer robe choosing to work in less flowing garments. The soft leather pants and short sleeved shirt helped the Monk blend in with the crew more seamlessly. Greyy had to look twice when she saw him. His self-assigned duties were light and somewhat simple but proved invaluable to the others. Their tasks complete and the note secured to Kerrs' door via an arrow the "Vharcan" eased out of the harbor and out to open waters.

On open seas the nights are deep darkness with very little light unless the moon is full. The beauty is unrivaled, even the stars are brighter. As beautiful as the sky is at night, it's the ocean that takes on new life when the sun goes down. Tiny creatures with luminescent glow dot the waves mimicking the stars above. This night, however, a mighty stir was causing the tiny glowing creatures to vanish in chaotic eddies reappearing only to vanish again.

Not only is dark very dark, but sound seems to carry further on the ocean as well. The lookout could hear something amiss but was completely unable to see anything. Hollering down for Greyy to come look was the only option, considering she was able to see quite well in the darkness. Once atop the crow's nest the Captain used the spy glass to stretch her sight further and was completely amazed at the sight heading straight for them!

## Chapter 110

The low groans that first alerted to a problem came from a single whale, some 52 feet long, tossing and splashing about in the water and making a grand noisy display of waves, bubbles and groans. It was such an amazing scene that it made Greyy smile watching. Long into the night the whale continued her song and dance, and by daybreak she was no longer alone. A few plumes of air and water from other whales were seen on the horizon and soon the single female darted low into the sea and sped quickly away from the others leading in a chase that was heading straight for the three mast corvette. It was not long before several more large males joined the parade.

So intent on watching the gathering males the crew had almost forgotten about the female. Securing the rigging and preparing for change of shifts made the deck hands jump as the 40 ton female broke the surface right off the port side of the ship. She was half as long as the ship and keeping fair pace with their speed and course. Prudence would dictate to break off and make a new heading to something a bit safer. Curiosity proved to be the stronger emotion keeping the current heading but reducing speed.

Soon the sanity and the practicality of the decision demanded immediate attention. The rushing mob of males caught up to the female and was bearing down on the "Vharcan" with all the frenzy of a cyclone. Each male, slightly smaller than the female, jockeyed for the right to mate by shoving or pounding other males. Some would try to "drown" other males by leaping onto their backs and riding down to deep water hoping the rival would run out of air first. They blew bubble rings in order to blind or distract others behind, flapping fins and tails in the water or breaking out of the water in an impressive display of aerobatics from such a huge ocean dwelling beasts all to impress the one female.

As the pod moved in closer their thundering display became more and more of a threat to the ship and its ability to stay above the waves. The whales were crashing into each other so hard it would knock the massive bodies into the hull. Bubble curtains used to throw off rival suitors were also causing a mess with the rudder. One particularly large male broke surface just off the starboard stern crashing violently into another male taking them both under the waves far too close to the ship. The wake caused by the barrage of bodies threatened to capsize the intruding vessel.

Scurrying to stations attempting to stay upright and out of the way of the massive display of romance the crew of "Vharcan" kept checked their curiosity in the hold and replaced it with self-preservation. There was no way to outrun or maneuver out of the way, the only course was to stay and hope they didn't get hit by whale.

As quickly as the heat run began it was over. The victor went with the female and disappeared far beneath the waves while the others were left to slink back into the watery expanse whence they came. The crew stood dumbfounded gazing over the rails at the vanishing bodies. A collective sigh of relief and nervous laughter began to spread across the deck as the realization settled they had lived to tell the story of a whale "Heat Run", and there was promise that the tale would be told often.

## Chapter 111

Still shaking from the encounter Greyy's crew continued on toward the known trade routes and harbors more suited for gentle folk and honest merchants looking for a good place away from the prying Navy to settle and regroup. The task of taking the Monk to a port was one that most likely would put the crew in deeper harm than had they remained at Port Redgrave. None the less, Greyylene was happy to be able to have a good excuse for leaving the Island and its new found libation behind. She was not given to a lot of drinking normally, and the extent of her desire for new brews was the recently acquired Savage Ale. This Cradle Rock Ale was far too dangerous and should not be encouraged, and aboard her vessel it would have no place!

Kegan sat at the bow of the ship watching the waves his look was sour and melancholy. Greyy was about to approach when she saw Sir Gilead meander to the giant and settle in beside him. They talked for some time and it was apparent that Kegan had found a necessary outlet for frustrations with his onetime nemesis.

When the Monk had first approached his pendant was a cool silvery gray, but after they spoke it took on a new shade of blue. When they were done nothing more was said, the Monk just turned and walked back across the deck nodding to Greyy as he passed.

A few more days and land was in sight. The course that had been chosen picked a lightly traveled area so as not to meet with too many other vessels. The goal for this journey was not to raid, but to drop their passenger at a harbor.

Glancing across the crew and listening to the men as they went about their daily tasks the Captain was more and more convinced that it wasn't just the Monk that this shore leave would benefit. She decided that they all needed a bit of time to let loose.

The sea hardened captain stood tall at the bow of her ship watching the waves glisten in the sunset and pondering all the events of the recent past. Her heart ached for home and her sister, but she feared she would never be welcome there again now that she had become a rather notorious outlaw.

The colors of the sunset painting the sky with last brilliant flames of the day danced around the dark ship. Much like the Cradle Rock Ale had left an inky trail of chaos so the "Vharcan" left its dark shadow on the waves in stark contrast to the emblazoned majesty of the heavens. As the stars began to announce their presence with a soft twinkle the Captain's mood grew more sullen. The deep crevice in her soul taunted her with ideas and images of a peaceful life she would never see.

All through the night she sat at the bow dozing slightly here and there but mostly watching the waves rush at the hull. As the sun began to peek over the horizon its rays kissed the tops of the waves promising to be a gentle mother on their voyage.

She was so completely lost in her own thoughts that the cry that broke the crystal silence almost made her fall off of her little perch. Only then did she realize it had been some time since she had last changed positions and her body betrayed her by objecting loudly with aches and pains she had forgotten would come.

"Laaaaaaaaaand Ho!" the call from the crow's nest. The timing could not have been more perfect. She was mildly concerned she may lose herself in her own thoughts all together had something not given cause to action.

She knew most ports had at least one tavern or pub that would be the ideal place to let off steam and maybe summon friendly specters of her past. On her way to the Captain's quarters she gave the order to pull into the port, but away from the common docks. She did not wish to be noticed by mooring close to other ships. Her next set of orders surprised and thrilled the crew. They would have until high tide the next day to spend ashore.

"Now don't get killed or caught." She warned

## Chapter 112

In her private chambers she scrounged around chests and footlockers for something a bit less 'sea worthy' to wear into town. She had never been one to dress up or given in to fancy dress, but the pieces she found taken from other ships that had been raided seemed to work out fairly well. She even remembered a few of the hair designs her sister had done when they were younger.

Locked away in her quarters assuming the rest of the crew was busy securing the ship and scampering ashore like rats from a burning building she pulled together something like a reasonable outfit. Setting aside the garments she arranged a simple bathing basin to clean the salt grime from her body.

A few ointments and oils she had acquired were used to help keep her skin from feeling like it would shatter at the slightest movement. The idea of primping and pampering herself seemed such a foreign concept to the sea hardened Captain that she could not help but smile to herself at the comedy of it all.

Standing before a mirror attached to the wall she examined the image reflecting back at her. More accustomed to trousers and a tight fitting shirt, she studied the total transformation with a degree of awestruck amusement. It would be quite likely no one would recognize her.

The deep brown braids that were wrapped around her head and left to dangle free at her back were adorned with small shells and beads acquired in some of the many raids. A light blue top hugged her curves and teased her bare shoulders, and the tight corset that supported her full bosom and tiny waist tied neatly at each hip. The deep blue skirts that gathered around her thighs fastened with simple ribbons allowing full movement and still offering a degree of covering to the female quiet parts. A garter at her thigh held a sheathed dagger affording a bit of protection that the dress otherwise would not have allowed. Her feet were encased in a flat sandal that tied up her calf almost to her knee. The final adornment added was the silver arm band that had long past lost its original meaning, yet she found it lovely anyway.

Once her skin had held a light smoky gray tint, but with long days in the sun and open seas she now held a copper toned tan that highlighted her hair and eyes with an exotic beauty. Her long limbs, still given to waves of pigment changes and the aura unique to her people, held toned feminine curves many would find appealing had they been able to see her as anything other than a cold blooded pirate captain. The thick dark lashes that lined her eyes gave a veil affect that became intoxicating when coupled with her alluring smile. The full lips that hid her straight teeth more often than not were in a heavy scowl or pensive frown, but when the smile unleashed a beauty the stuff of legends shone through with brilliance.

## Chapter 113

Emerging from her quarters she found that the crew had made record time docking the ship and clamoring ashore for some much needed recreational activities. She was almost certain there would be no one around to witness her drastic transformation, at least which was her hope. She had no intention of losing respect of her crew because of a few new articles of clothing and perfume. She failed to notice the dark silhouette standing just inside the tree line at the end of the docks.

Sir Gilead had gathered the few belongings he owned and left with the rest of the crew. He had been given passage to a port of call and no one had bothered to see if he required anything more, in truth they barely noticed his presence as they rushed to begin shore leave. The quest his soul had taken was one he had been trying to decipher since the first time he met the wayward Elf.

His heart broke for her troubled story and the deep loneliness he knew she felt. Her journey would be one filled with heartache, adventure, self-discovery and only the Deity knew what more; but he was determined to be as much of a guide and protector to her and her crew as he was allowed.

She was certain there would be some kind of establishment that would prove to be a distraction from mayhem and murder without compromising their current status as fugitive. The last thing she wanted was to go from outlaw to inmate.

Melting into the surroundings she made her way towards town as quietly as the feminine garb would allow. Unfamiliar with this particular port of call she followed her nose and the sounds in the air to find the local watering hole. The aromas that floated on the breeze like foam on the waves were intoxicating and full of spicy heat coupled with a thought of the free flow of local grog she smiled with anticipation. A pause in the music coming from a nearby establishment slowed her footsteps slightly. She waited for the next song to start before following the sounds across the narrow path.

## Chapter 114

"This number we acquired while traveling about the lands. We're not sure it's completely right, but here's a go at it." The leader said as way of introduction.

She stood just inside the threshold waiting to hear what sort of marvel these traveling musicians had in store. As the music began the sound resonated deep within her soul making her heart skip a beat with sheer joy at familiarity. The notes that emanated from the instruments stirred deeply forcing her feet and body to move with the haunting, lilting melody. A driving beat of the drum and the low earthy tone of the lute and lyre set a tune and mood that begged to be danced. As the song progressed she took slow deliberate steps to the middle of the floor and stomped with the beat of the drum. Her legs finding the rhythm intoxicating could barely help themselves but to dance. Twirling and swaying with the beat, skirts flying in a magical arc around her body her arms and hands took on the attitude of the story in song. Clapping in time adding a pounding stomp in a turn the harsh sea captain transformed before the eyes of astonished onlookers into a gypsy goddess with a grace and elegance belying her role as Pirate.

The song grew in intensity transforming the dingy hall into lively dance parlor. The whirling Elf center stage was soon joined by one of the traveling band of minstrels who picked up the pace next to her without missing a beat. His hand went around her waist joining in the step and pulling her to him in one fluid movement. Their steps and turns melted so flawlessly together it seemed as though they had practiced for months to perfect the steps.

As the song came to an end the room erupted in whooping cheers and applauds, the couple at the center of the room stood in their final stance heaving heavy breaths from the lively dance. The moments for the two disappeared as they lingered in each other's arms, her hands on his chest and his hand gently cupping her face and head. He gazed into her fiery eyes drawing her up to him before kissing her lips in such a deep and passionate embrace that when he pulled away she was left a bit dazed.

Setting Greyy upright he motioned to the others of the band to continue playing songs the local establishment would know. Watching the room unfold in song and dance the stranger took Greyy's hand and without saying a word leads her out into the starlit night.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

"Of course I do, Captain. It is my job to know all the beautiful women who dance to exotic Elf music that we just happened to stumble into." came his teasing reply before pinning her against a tree to kiss her deeply once again.

Fighting to break from the kiss she spun around in a sweeping arc that knocked him off balance. Placing a foot behind his she gave a shove that landed him on his back at her feet. Stepping over him, a foot on either side of his hips, she crossed her arms and leveled a cold glare the likes of which would make her crewmen tremble. This brazen fellow, however, crossed his hands behind his head and looked at her with an amused expression and a playful smile.

## Chapter 115

"Well, Captain, it does appear that you are indeed a woman not to be crossed." He said before leaping to his feet and tossing her over his shoulder in one fluid motion. His muscular frame was not hulking or overly impressive, but he wielded his charm and charisma as well as any weapon. Her squeal caused him to laugh out loud enticing him further to keep her as captive. His contagious manner made her smile, but not wanting to encourage him too much she beat on his back demanding he put her down. Placing her back on the ground he reached over to lightly caress her cheek. The look in his eye was unmistakable and she knew that a lesser man would have carried through with their lust regardless of her desire. His respect and playful kindness touched a part of her heart she had thought long dead.

Before he pulled away to leave she took his hand drawing him back. Pausing a lingering moment, she gazed longingly across his face. The kiss that ensued caused the world to stop turning, even the forest held its breath.

Time had stopped for them as they continued to give way to passion and desires. They would walk a short way then stop for a caress or kiss before continuing to a destination neither knew. They finally found themselves in a small furnished room at a local inn.

In a sweeping movement he removed his shirt revealing a firm chest with a long alluring stripe of hair running from his belly button up and spreading across his pectorals. She was surrounded by men all the time, but none had the effect on her that this one did, he was enchanting and she enjoyed the spell.

She was so captivated by his body that she couldn't help but reach and touch him running her fingers through the soft fur. He took a step forward allowing her closer examination, and as she was distracted his fingers unlaced her corset and the skirt strings letting them fall to the floor at her feet leaving her standing in nothing but her top. A slightly stunned intake of breath she eagerly folded herself into his embrace.

The night meandered along as the lovers entwined in each other's bodies. The traveling minstrel and the sea harden captain blossomed into a man and woman with the wants, desires and passions of newlyweds. When they were exhausted and satisfied both collapsed in a pile on the small bed their naked bodies rested, she in his arms with his hands caressing her curves.

## Chapter 116

At the first hint of dawn Greyy woke and carefully slid out from his embrace. The contented smile on his face almost kept her from the need to return to her ship. Dressing quietly she noticed his clothing laying near hers and being the pirate she is decided to take a souvenir of their most memorable evening together.

She knew he would not easily be forgotten and hoped that at some point their paths would cross again so she could return his clothing. She stood in the door for a moment studying his sleeping form, burning the image of his body and face firmly into her memory before slipping out the door and heading back to the ship. She used the jaunt back to regain some semblance of "Captain Demeanor" hoping the crew would not notice her glowing smile.

The early morning mists still hovered low to the ground softening her footsteps and masking sounds. In her mind she readied the crew for the next grand adventure, trying desperately to push the previous night's events aside. This port town was far to the South West of Port Redgrave; with this in mind she juggled the choice of returning north or heading further South. There were still many places she had never been.

Meandering out from the short path through the woods she entered the back end of the town. Most of the streets were empty at this early hour and those few who were awake were decidedly hung over. None she passed were her crew, and the town itself seemed relatively intact.

The rowdy boisterous reputation of most sea farers would be horribly disappointed with her crew of cutthroats. They were vicious in battle, but the overall demeanor of the crew matched that of the captain. More given to subtlety than antagonism they proved to be a fearsome force with the added terror of stealth and silence as their ally.

## Chapter 117

As she approached the harbor there were several other ships bobbing lazily in the low tide. Mildly aware of their presence she continued until one of the larger ships caught her attention. It was moored out a ways from the others due to its size and the inability to fit in the small marina. The colors that flew from the main mast were ones she was unfamiliar yet recognized. The last time she had seen those colors was at Minerva's Cradle.

Stepping quietly on the plank to board the morning fog still across the waves hid any sinister intent. The main deck was clear of crewmen and fairly clean of debris or other telltale signs of inhabitants, even the sea birds were still silent at this hour. Regardless of the early morning quiet the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and every fiber in her being was piqued for action. Stowing her booty near the rails she drew her dagger and faded into the mists moving forward to her cabin.

The door to her quarters stood ajar and she could see a highly polished pair of boots propped on the desk at the far wall of the room. As she drew closer the body that belonged to the boots revealed. A tall man, clean shaven with hair neatly pulled in a ponytail sat behind her desk with an air of arrogance and utter annoyance. He was holding documents that had been loosely concealed under a long map.

Her ire stirred she stepped from the silent shadows and threw open the door leaning hard against the wall with her arms crossed. A steady glare was lowered at the intruder but not a word was spoken between them. Never moving from her place at the door she stood and watched as the stranger slowly stood, glanced once more at the documents and strode towards her. He locked his gaze with hers and matched the intensity as he stepped right to her face. Neither blinking he gave a slight nod and a Lieutenant from Port Bistrot took her wrist and yanked it hard behind her back forcing her to move from the doorway standing dangerously close to the offending Navy Swine. Standing on her tip toes and careful not to wince she scowled a low throaty growl rousing Kegan the Mad from his feather light slumber.

The two intruders were much taller than Greyylene but when Kegan approached he towered over them both. The first to speak was the one who had been behind the desk.

"My name is Lieutenant Commander Horatio Washburn, and I am here to ensure these waters and towns remain Peaceful." he said with emphasis. "I am well aware of whom you are and the contraband in your quarters is enough to take you away in irons. But I am a generous sort and today I won't press charges. Know this, I will be watching you and your crew, Captain." he said the last with a hiss.

## Chapter 118

Watching the two men leave a chill began to settle over Greyylene as she pondered the meaning of what she had just witnessed. Kegan was still poised for a fight in which he knew quite well he would win. "Stand down, Kegan, his time will come." she whispered to him before turning back to her quarters to examine what they had done.

Reentering her chambers she found most was as she had left it, until she looked at the desk. The Lieutenant had been sifting through papers that were for the most part of little to no relevance to anything at all. But one piece of parchment was set aside from the others and the look of that made her breath catch in her throat and her blood boil. It was the recipe for her Savage Ale. The script was that of the Tabaxi so difficult to read, but the fact it was sitting on her desk meant other things were invaded also.

She stood with such force that the chair slammed backwards crashing to the floor. Hearing the noise Kegan rushed in stopping short when he saw the anger of his Captain. He followed her gaze over to the chest that held the Savage Ale. Spread over her cot was the broken remains of the trunk. The upstart Lieutenant had taken an axe to it and split it into several pieces, and in the process breaking a bottle of the Ale. The soiled remains of her Ale along with broken glass and wood stirred a hatred she had never felt. Seething she gave the order to round up the crew to be ready to sail at high tide.

After Kegan stormed out to roust the crew she closed the door with a calm that contradicted the inner turbulence she felt. Greyylene changed from the relaxed dress leftover from the night before into her Captain's battle uniform and prepared herself for a bit of retaliation. The corset was replaced with a sleeveless top jacket with tails cut short in front at the waist over a long sleeved blouse that flared at the wrists. A long leather skirt slit at the sides for movement hung easy off her hips and just past her knees, her hair unbraided tied in a leather strap at her neck and low heeled boots finished the look of command.

By the time the door to her cabin opened the mess on her cot was cleaned and the air of total domination and utter fury was firmly planted on her face. A short note was scrawled and ready to be sent via pigeon to Port Redgrave, and a devious plan was taking shape in her mind. This Navy fellow was not going to meander aboard her ship without invitation without serious consequences.

## Chapter 119

There was little to no effort in convincing Kerrs or the other Pirates of the plan. A basic rule of piracy was to cause mayhem and madness whenever possible. Punching a hole in the defenses of the local authorities was enough incentive to stir action in the generally lazy crew of cutthroats. Knowing the added embarrassment of being outwitted by a band of drunken renegades would drive Horatio Washburn into madness was too much to pass.

As the rest of the crew was preparing to take to the waves Captain Greyylene took a little trip to the local tavern looking for unruly and drunken young men to begin her devious plan. Entering the dark room she could smell the lingering scent of the night's activities. It was not long to find exactly the motley bunch she wanted, and was less difficult to convince them to follow her even without them knowing her plan. A few nights of irritating greenhorns would be a small price if revenge worked.

Greyylene was indeed an Elf, but her nature was peace and the love of nature. Her extended stay with lawless rebels had taken the peace and replaced it with the desire for controlled chaos. Her devious mind full of fun loving pranks and jokes turned sinister in the company of the men she now led. Her most hateful prank to date was unfolding before the eyes of both Pirate and Navy. Kerrs was more than thrilled to assist in her plan; Washburn had no idea what wickedness he had unleashed by invading the quarters of the female firebrand.

Taking some ideas from the Dark Elf playbook the Captain prepared a note especially for the other young Officer, one Lieutenant Roland White. He was assigned with Washburn and would be found on deck of the same Navy ship moored just beyond the break waters. The crew gathered, along with the extras, and with high tide carrying the "Vharcan" gently to open waters Greyy waited for her perfect shot.

As they passed the naval vessel "Avenger" she notched an arrow with her note. The one word, _Prepare_ , inscribed in a lovely long sweeping script and impaled with an arrow whistled a menacing song as it flew to its mark just missing White's head and embedding in the mast behind him. He looked up in time to see Greyy give a saucy little two fingered salute as their ships passed. Little did he realize the mayhem that would follow their brief encounter.

## Chapter 120

Over the next few weeks her plan took on action and then became something of a monster with a life all its own. The idea was to recruit crews from every pub; tavern and inn that the crews stopped then train them enough to not destroy themselves within the first night. Once the new recruits were trained the grand raid on any Navy vessel and replacing the officers with the drunkards from towns would ensue. The crews that survived for more than a day or two learned quickly how to keep a ship afloat and away from those who originally owned it.

Kerrs and Buddy took to the plan like a fish to water using their vast experience and the resource contacts they had hiding in alleys and boardwalks along the Eastern Seas. They used the argument of an Empire that oppressed its "law abiding citizens" turning them into ruffians to survive, and this was a perfect time to bring a message to the "laws that be" that privateers were tired of following someone else's rules. For the logical, that argument is somewhat weak, but for drunkards and petty criminals it seemed almost patriotic. Kerrs' had a silver tongued mastery of persuasive speech and stirring the locals was barely a challenge.

Greyylene, however, used a much more base argument in her recruitment. Not only would the pathetic and lonely be given the chance to earn a big boat, but they would also be able to sail and learn under her supervision. The salty jokes and jeers of that idea caused some to drool unabashedly, but in the end she had little trouble in gathering a crew.

The first half of the plan was well in place and progressing famously. Each of the new crewmen was given a task to learn and perfect within a day or two before moving to another. Most became an asset and quite proficient even in a very short time. As the sailing lessons progressed each ship grew closer and closer to the specific target. The Navy ships that were attacked first were those of tiny outposts and lone patrols. They were generally smaller vessels that would be easier to handle by a crew of greenhorns.

## Chapter 121

Within a month's time Kerrs, Buddy and Greyylene had spread through dozens of ports and taken five of the Navy's ships. When they rendezvoused just outside of Port Bistrot a new plan began to take shape. Not only were they taking the Navy ships, but they would spread panic and fear throughout the lands with rumors and stories of mass destruction. A key member of that plan was Greyy's former crewman Donny Porter.

Mr. Porter was tasked with the job of assisting the local gossips in spreading a tale as grand as the Emperor's own castle of how the Navy was being decimated by sea creatures. The idea was to take a bit of the focus off the Pirates and let local fishermen go hunting for deep sea creatures. Without the fishermen the economy of local sea ports was destined to flail about in helpless indecision bringing the Empire out of its comfortable apathy.

Donny's reports were delivered with a precision of a surgeon as he would sit in a drunken stupor on a bar stool, or rushed into a place in a crazed panic. His "strange reports" passed from town to town of vanishings of questionable origin. Town's people were in a panic knowing that the Navy was under attack by supernatural forces and deep sea monsters hell bent on destroying the world. Other tales circulated of officers going completely insane and throwing themselves overboard due to an odd illness that invaded their minds. Every possible explanation toured the towns and ports, except the only one that was accurate.

## Chapter 122

The note that Greyylene had shot into the mast of the "Avenger" forced a hand James Bishop had to that point been unwilling to play. He knew he had to return to Headquarters and report all that had happened in their scouting expedition. It was far too important now to disregard the order to return home. Lieutenants Washburn and White had stirred a hornets' nest and the consequences would be severe if there was insufficient preparation.

Once news reached the desk of Captain Bishop of the missing ships, he knew at once who was ultimately behind the chaos of the fleets. He had no option but to recommend that they send out search parties to bring in the missing ships, hoping they were still intact and afloat. Still impressed with for how well he was taken by the saucy vixen Greyylene; Roland White was assigned the task of rounding up as many of the "missing" vessels as possible.

Horatio was now on a rampage and his goal was to hunt that sea wench and send her to the bottom of the ocean. Captain Bishop was mildly amused at how engrossed his First Lieutenant had become with the Pirate and opted to allow his tempter to run its course rather than try to rein him in. Her along with her cursed crew had made it to the top of Washburn's most wanted leader board, which he had hanging on the wall in his quarters. He determined to himself that he would personally hunt her, her crew and her treasure then justice would be the least of their worries.

Reeling with indecision as to what to do and pacing back and forth in front of his desk livid from the actions of this Woman, Washburn was desperate to return order. Suddenly he stopped mid stride as an idea struck him like a club between the eyes. She had played pay back as motivation to institute this current action; he decided to up the ante by returning to the cave they first met to take her "Pirate Treasure". That he was sure would bring her crawling in begging for mercy. Every pirate's weakness is their treasure, or so he figured.

He sat at his desk and began to devise a strategy on how to best bring the Pirates back into order. A light rap at the door made him jump leaking ink all over his newly formed plan. There was a call to order on deck.

## Chapter 123

The "Avenger" was almost back at the Headquarters docks and several other large ships could be seen on the horizon. Captain was on deck and the rest of the crew was busy about their duties when a large Ship of the Line loomed over them. The gang plank was hoisted across the rails and a small entourage of Military guards from both Imperial Guards and Navy crossed. The Commander who seemed to lead the escort was short on manners as well as in stature. He never requested to come aboard only marched to James Bishop and stood right in his face.

"Captain James Bishop, you are here by ordered to relinquish control of your crew to ME, Commander Horace Flintlock of the Imperial Guard!" he stated with a smirk and a satisfied gloat.

Bishop took the orders but before there was time to comment the Commander turned on his heels and retreated to his own vessel with a pounding stomp of his heavy boots ringing on deck.

"New orders will be arriving Shortly, Captain. I expect you to comply completely!" he said over his shoulder still walking away at a brisk pace. It was a lovely sight to watch as the massive ship sailed off to find its next prey.

Orders arrived shortly after Flintlock had left as he said they would. One look at the proposed plan made James Bishop laugh out loud.

"Oh I am glad my name is not on these! He's nothing but a two bit desk puppy." He said to himself.

The next morning Captain Bishop called an emergency meeting of all his crew and any of the other captains that were near and available. There had to be a plan to counter what he knew was a futile attack on renegades who followed no "rules of engagement" that the Commander had ordered. He was also focused on gaining the upper hand by taking back the loot, mentioned by Horatio Washburn; Greyy had hidden in Minerva's Cradle. The plans were weak and had little chance of success, but maybe at day's end they would make it out with their ships still intact.

## Chapter 124

The day they were to head out to seek the Pirate threat was clear and bright, promising an easy sail. Flintlock held the list of his ships that were accounted for and gathering at the Headquarters Dock. There were not as many as he had hoped for, but more than he had figured. He was joined by Captain Bishop and several other Captains.

With the rest of the fleet spread thin chasing "missing ships" the Navy was forced to split the command thinner than a skeleton crew. Once the briefing was complete he dismissed the Captains to their respective ships and returned to take command of his own newly commissioned giant.

Irritated and anxious to exact some revenge on the ones who had forced such actions most of the naval crews were poised for attacks and hell bent on a single goal. Having many of the commissioned ships missing with rumors of sea monsters and ghosts had ripped a hole in the tidy order of the Military presence. They had been embarrassed by a band of ruffians who did not follow the accepted rules of war, now it was time to play a little dirty and gain the control of the open seas.

As the crews were gathering in the harbor and being briefed on the plan, a tall blazing white set of sails breeched the horizon. A bleach white ship with the royal crest painted center of each sail in a vibrant blinding blue and emblazoned with the name "HMS Beatrice" sat high on the waves looking regal and untested. It was an impressive ship with a long deck and high forecastle and stern. The quarterdeck and poop decks stair cased up making the monster seem taller than it had any rite to be. The Commander's pennant flew the crimson and purple of the Empirical Guard and tossed about in the wind like a color guard on parade.

Washburn made a deep groan and buried his face in his hand at the sight of the glistening pampas display. He knew that one sight of that ship and it may as well have a bull's eye painted on the side. Every pirate and privateer on the seas would aim for that, if for nothing else than bragging rights to sinking her. Not only was it big and beautiful, but it was also christened with the name of the Empress!

## Chapter 125

Insisting on snappy salutes and lavish display of rank and position, the newly appointed Fleet Admiral Horace Flintlock strode across the decks. His crew was manned with those of his own command from the Royal Guards, none of which had ever sailed a day in their life. The other A. B. S. was real sailors and ensigns from the Navy training yards. It was the Able Bodied Sailors who made the "Beatrice" sail true and upright, everyone could see the officers on board were clueless to the art of seafaring.

Bishop had a sinking feeling deep in his gut as he saw the beauty before him take the lead. He was disgusted that a greenhorn with a silver spoon shoved deep in his mouth was taking the command of seasoned sailors and soldiers for the sake of his own gain and promotions. James Bishop knew that for this day to end well they needed to recover as many of the hijacked ships as possible and bring the soft bellied land hound back safely. The grand ship, he knew, was not to survive the day and woe to those who sailed on her.

It took a bit of convincing and political waltzing but in the end the plan to make the battle field at Minerva's Cradle was set. The seas were somewhat calm and had a few places to mount flanking attacks if it came to that. It was hoped that the Pirates would be there, if not the plan was to draw them to the battle zone and pick them off in much the same way they had taken Navy ships.

Both leaders had their own agenda and the plans displayed by the Commander showed the utter lack of experience. In the end the idea was set and the credit was given to the Guards. With a great deal of tongue biting on the part of Captain Bishop the order to set sails was given, only three days late. That same day they finally set sails for Minerva's Cradle and the Cradle Rock Cave. His crew was anxious for settling a score with lawless pirates, even if they would not admit to it. With the wind at their backs and the course set true they made the deep sea voyage in record time and without incident. Within the week they had the glimmer of the sight of high cliffs looming low on the horizon.

## Chapter 126

As the Navy prepared for a confrontation the Pirates too were making plans of engagement. The tricks and pranks of open oceans are often filled with much higher consequence than those on land. A misstep or wrong rudder could end the crew in a deep ocean with little to no defense against waves or creatures.

Training inept drunkards to control large sailing vessels in any sort of order was, at best, a trick. Greyy was the one who ultimately discovered the perfect way to "motivate" the crews. A large keg of rum was secured to the main deck of each ship and each time a crewmate did right they got a pint. This ensured motivated sailors and by the end of the day drunken ones who were more than happy to stay aboard a ship doomed to sink.

Greyylene had hoped and anticipated that the Lieutenant Washburn would return to the area of Cradle Rock in order to steal back her treasures and had made plans accordingly. Her bounty was moved and secured at a better location and the pirates were waiting in a surprise ambush around Minerva's Cradle. A delightful glee spread across the deck of "Vharcan" as once again it was the original crew to take orders and inflict mayhem on the Navy.

All the other ships, both hijacked and original to the pirate were positioned somewhat strategically around the harbor and the peninsula of the foreboding island. Each of the hijacked boats were equipped with the proper amount of guns and ammunition to defend itself in an attack along with crude pirate colors nailed to each mast ensuring that none would be left to be returned by to the Navy. The crew would either win the day, or go down with the ship.

When the Navy fleet was finally spotted a roar of hilarious laughter broke across the waves. Most had been used to seeing Navy ships with their subdued sapphire and emerald colors, but the glistening gem of white that came dancing across the tide was almost too much to bear.

"Hold fast, boys." Greyy said with a smirk. "We need them a bit closer before sending in the mob."

"Dem fools ought be playin a fool band announcing demse'f like dat." Kegan said shaking his head at the spectacle in white.

"Well, Kegan, it'll make a right big target I dare say."

## Chapter 127

At the sight of the Ship of the Line the energy on the side of the Pirates could be felt across the waves in each ship. Kerrs had rounded up other pirate captains for this battle promising a grand adventure, and with the appearance of this single boat his promise had been fulfilled. The recently recruited "privateers" were also primed for action, if not nearly as skilled or disciplined as the rest.

Greyy had positioned the "Vharcan" around the backside of the Cradle Rock Island waiting for any who would try escape. Kerrs, Buddy and Captain Blaque Rose spread out amongst the greenhorn crews so as to keep them focused and on task. Kegan took another cutter and lead a small fleet around the back side of the Navy fleet. In this order most of the Navy was sailing straight for an ambush with the instant ability to be flanked.

The plans changed drastically as soon as the massive white beast appeared. The smaller "acquired" ships would run headlong into the Beatrice and sink it. The larger regular fleet of the Pirates would provide as much support as possible and distract any of the other ships that would try to defend the lead. The plan was crude and hastily put together, but all understood the game that was at hand and eager to participate.

"Mind the Crescent of the Dead Moon." Greyy gave one last order to the Pirates.

The smaller ships were meant to wait for a signal from Kerrs, but one of the newly acquired cutters got squirrelly and ran a collision course straight for the Navy fleet. There was little more to do than to either sit and watch or join the fray. There was little encouragement required for others to load cannons, muskets and anything else available releasing war whoop and turning sails full into the winds. It would not be said that a respectable Pirate would sit and watch while a good brawl was at hand.

## Chapter 128

The beautiful white ship standing so tall and proud was so quickly overtaken by the barrage of rampaging vessels that it was obscured by smoke and listing badly. The attack was so swift and complete they barely got any cannons fired. Others of the Navy were quick to lend aid to the ailing vessel but it was far too late to serve any real assistance.

A runaway ship with Navy markings and pirate colors rammed straight into the hull of the mighty flagship and was protruding out of the side in a most grotesque manner. The bowsprit had acted as a spear and impaled the hull so deeply it was an impossible task to break them free of one another.

After the renamed "Renegade" made contact and the sickening creaking crunch of breaking wood subsided the battle was officially begun. The Navy was determined to save its flagship; the Pirates were determined to bring every last ship down in whatever means they felt necessary. Fire arrows flew through the air embedding in rigging and sails, cannons boomed across the waves splashing or making mark and the yells of panic from ships heavily entangled accented the mass of ships and crews.

A boom and crack of the main mast on the cutter put a heavy burden on the side of the already listing flagship. Both were in imminent danger and sinking quickly. The pirate crew stayed with the ship and fought hand to hand until the waves won their battle. The Navy ship had life rafts and men jumping overboard on both sides. As an observer from far off the display was, at best, ridiculous.

The line of small rafts leaving the doomed ship was rather pathetic, but the most disgusting thing to be seen was that of the Commander of the "Beatrice" rowing as fast as his arms could go out pacing the others by quite a bit. He was the only one in the life raft and left flailing crewmen of both the Pirate and Navy vessels bobbing in his wake. He knocked a few of his own crew in the head with an ore to get further away from the sinking ships. All of his pomp and big words proclaiming his superiority and expertise in tactics and battle finesse and he had become the first off his ship when things began to go wrong.

In stark contrast to the cowardice of the Commander was the First Officer of the "Beatrice". He clamored to the highest point to watch the happenings around him. The disgust on his face could be seen clearly by any crewman that happened to pay attention.

"The Captain Stays With The Ship!" he yelled out to the Commander in the vain hope he would be heard over the roar of sinking ships.

## Chapter 129

One of the final images that played out with the "Beatrice" was an act of kindness in the heat of a battle none would believe or expect. The last crewman was off the sinking flagship and the First Officer stood as best he could on the heavily listing deck. The look on his face was that of accepting his fate and preparing his soul to be welcomed to the watery grave.

Below his location was a small raft of Pirate crewmen waiting for the final death throws; when the water rose to threatening they went after the First Officer and brought him aboard their craft. There was no gloating or fanfare, nothing menacing or malicious it was sailors sharing a horrific event and trying to survive in open waters. The act of kindness guaranteed that the Officer of "Beatrice" would be able to report back to headquarters all that had taken place in the epic battle with the "Pirate Menace".

Watching from the crow's nest Greyy looked through the spyglass as the two ships finally listed so far they were overtaken by the ocean. The little cutter had no chance at staying afloat with all the mass weighing on top of it. She took a moment to pause and release a short blessing on those lives that were now sacrificed to the sea.

When she took up the glass again to survey the field of battle a sight that almost made her ill with disgust caught her eye. The captain of the "Beatrice" was in a small dingy rowing quickly to another of the Navy vessels passing other sailors, both Navy and Pirate in its rush to safety. The ship he boarded was none other than the "Avenger", owned and captained by James Bishop with Horatio Washburn standing at the rails.

Moving out from her hiding place the "Vharcan" made sure that it was seen by Washburn. Greyy continued to watch from the crow's nest waiting to catch the attention of her nemesis. When they finally met gazes he was just hauling the soggy lump they had called a Commander to the main deck. The disgusted expression was more than obvious, even from afar. She could see that he was as unimpressed with the actions of this pathetic fool as any of the others, but could not pass up the opportunity to add a bit of a jab.

## Chapter 130

He took up a long glass and looked straight at her and what he saw was the Elf atop the crow's nest giving a mocking two fingered salute with a wink. Then she pointed towards a small catamaran sailing low and fast in the waves. Waiting for him to receive his "message" she began to move away just enough to have the momentum of retreat already established.

The single sailor stepped aboard and gave a snappy proper salute before a short exchange and he handed over his find. Bishop looked at a large gold coin in the palm of his hand then ordered the glass to gaze back at the brazen Pirate Greyylene. She was still watching and gave him a little finger wave. The look he shot back to her across the distance was one that typically brought sailors to their knees. Through the glass she saw him glare and just point at her before another volley of cannon fire broke the connection.

Horatio's ire was stirred to the point of forgetting his station and rank. He began to bark out orders that other crewmen began to carry out long before they realized who was giving them. The focus was on catching "Vharcan" but anything that blocked the path was immediately and violently addressed. In the course of the afternoon "Avenger" was responsible for retaking three intact navy vessels, one heavily damaged pirate vessel and claimed the colors of several other sinking navy ships. Horatio proved to be a man on a mission and to his credit James Bishop stood back and allowed the actions to play out to their natural conclusion.

Several hours had passed and the sun was beginning its descent into the horizon. The smoke was clearing and an inventory of boats left afloat and operational was taken. By the end of the day all of the hijacked Navy vessels were returned or sunk, none were in any condition to ever sail again. The Navy flagship had been sunk and the treasure that Washburn had hoped to recapture had only given him the single coin that was left sitting propped on a small stone in the cave where the catamaran sailor had found it. The Pirates had turned and merely vanished in the smoke and gathering fog leaving only the Navy in the middle of the ocean smoldering and sinking in the waves.

The report that the Commander needed to file would show that the Navy had "won the day" because they had retaken the missing ships. He would leave out the details of his exit of the Flagship. He was still unaware that any had survived to rebut his report so showed little concern, but the great loss of the "Beatrice" would be difficult to explain.

Commander Flintlock was so secure in his belief none of the other Navy personnel would ever contradict his report that he embellished his role in the battle quite handsomely. However, to his discredit there were many who were left who would testify against him. The added report of the rescued First Officer would be added to the growing nails in the coffin of the "Great Commander" Flintlock.

Several ships had taken to hand to hand combat and even a few of the hijacked boats were boarded and retaken only to find massive holes in the hulls and a trail of life rafts floating towards the nearest land mass. The voyage back to navy headquarters recovered yet another of the missing ships that had been stripped clean and abandoned. Being left to the whim of the waves it became a pathetic bobbing reminder of a bitter 'victory'.

## Chapter 131

Sailing away from the battle South and to the East on the far shores near Port Gilesby Greyylene led her crew to small chain of shallow unmarked islands. They were an outcrop of rocks and volcanic leftovers long forgotten by civilized sea farers. It would be the ideal niche to hide her treasure.

Each crewman was given their shared loot to store as safely as any hidden item could. They took their chests and sealed them with their own unique brand before securing it to a rope with an empty rum barrel to act as a buoy marker. The barrels would be wedged into a deep crevice and covered with the flotsam and jetsam of the tidal currents. At first glance it would seem to be nothing more than ocean debris caught in the rocks and uninviting to any who passed.

The task complete she turned on the wind and headed back to Port Redgrave. Undoubtedly there would be celebration lasting long into the coming days. She was almost certain they would not wait for her nor would they miss her tardiness. By the time Greyy showed up the festivities were well beyond control.

The crew of the "Vharcan" strode ashore, an air of arrogance and haughty self-assurance in their wake. Each member had played a vital role in contributing to the success of this battle and Captain Greyy was the epitome of the proud leader. As she made her presence in the Soggy Fishtail Pub she held bottles of rum over her head for her heroic crew. Her presence announced the need for fresh drinks all around, if for no other reason than an excuse for more rum.

Kegan had already begun to drink with exuberance and was beginning to tell stories of his version of the adventure. He was standing near a far wall, as much to help keep his balance as to provide a suitable stage, regaling his listeners with the exploits of his mini ship.

It was difficult to find a craft smaller than the "Vharcan" but he had managed. He and his crew of 30 were armed with little more than the weapons they had when they first boarded. They had taken the original crew and stripped them of their uniforms before setting them adrift in the dingy.

The Pirate crew altered the uniforms to look as absurd as possible, cutting off the sleeves or shortening the trouser legs to fit which ever body happened to acquire it. Kegan had discovered the brightly plumed tri-corn hat of an Officer and found it far too small to fit his head so with a few modifications of shells and beads he adorned the main mast. The small ship was given a proper Pirate name of "The Salty Barnacle" and set out to cause mayhem where ever it was possible.

The more details Kegan went into the more animated he became. His arms flailed about almost knocking animal heads off the walls as he mimicked the crew of the hijacked ship. The real fun in the adventure came when he began to describe the deck battles just before the crew jumped the ship and let it drift lazily into the currents.

Hand to hand combat was one of Kegan the Mad's most enjoyable past times. He was especially fond of sailors who thought they knew how to battle facing him and losing all sense of order or composure at the mere sight of his size. More than once he had won a fight just by showing up. His size and strength were notorious. He was well versed in the use of a blunderbuss to clear a deck and his war cry was the stuff of legends. The leftover of his crew were seen nodding their heads in vigorous agreement at the retelling of how he plowed through the oncoming boarding party in one wicked shot of his hand held cannon.

Hilarious laughter ensued as his story continued and he described the looks and reactions to the invading party. Several others were brought to their knees in tears as they recounted the expressions when everyone turned around and jumped the rails to the waiting longboat just in time to make it safely away before the hull of that same longboat erupted in a splintering mass of useless timber. Another victim of the famous Blunderbuss lay in pieces across the waves bobbing impotently around the Navy sailors. Shock and dismay of the Navy as they realized they would have to swim was the topic of many tales.

By the time one story was completed another one began. Long into the night the tales continued until everyone was so far drunk or already passed out none was able to hear. The days held heavily sedated sailors sleeping off the night in time for the sun to set and the whole extravagant episode to begin once more.

## Chapter 132

Day three of the binge brought a more sinister air. The stock of rum and ale had been depleted and the need to find something more suitable to the level of intoxication was violently required. Buddy and Kerrs disappeared for a short time to reappear with Greyylene's chest of Savage Ale along with their kegs of Cradle rock Ale.

Before she had a chance to object her new chest was smashed open and the bottles that had been so carefully stored were mixed with the pungent poison from the caverns of Black Rock. She was not given to heavy drinking so was sober enough to be aware of the evil that was taking over the Pirate band. The Cradle Rock Ale she knew was potent and worked quickly in the body. She was surprised to see just how fast it moved when mixed with her Savage Ale.

Kerrs and Buddy were the first to drink the new mix and the effects were almost instant. As they downed their mugs a thin ink black line coursed through their bodies. Their pupils were so large no color was left in their bloodshot eyes. A deep red shadow crept over their faces accenting the cheekbones and temples. Several other pirates drank and were so oblivious to the reactions they kept drinking.

The crew of the "Vharcan" became so disgusted with the deep lack of respect shown to their captain that they had all retreated to a common point around Greyylene. Their irritation turned to horror as they watched the immediate transformation of their fellow renegades. They took a vow at that moment never to let the Savage Ale out in public. The danger of this brew was far too heavy for any of them to bear. They were already damned there was no need to be damned without any hope of redemption.

With all her Ale spent and a bitter disappointment left in her heart Greyy and her crew returned to the "Vharcan". Back in her quarters with the images firmly seared in her memory she allowed herself one moment of reflection. She thought of home, of her sister and the small room they had shared.

In her mind's eye she could see the young girls whispering in the dim light of secret adventures and plans of greatness before their parents would holler for them to be quiet and go to sleep. Her mind then turned to her parents and the meals they shared together. The sorrow made a complete circuit when the image of her mother lying in her arms bleeding on the floor invaded the calm, only to be followed by the flying arrow and the blood soaked feather protruding out of the soldier who had killed her parents and the whispered vow of revenge that forever altered her life. A lone tear streaked down the cheek of the hardened captain as she blinked away the memory of all she had lost.

Shaking herself free of the flooded emotions she noticed a commotion on deck. Joining her crew at the rails and gazing out to the ongoing party a sight that shook her to the core caught her attention. It was the same upheaval that had gathered the crew to watch in a dumbfounded haze. At the edge of the forest was another of the Pirate crew running back and forth as if he was on fire. He was chased by a small herd of creatures that were running and leaping nipping at his heels.

"Bring me the Glass!" she ordered.

## Chapter 133

When she looked through the long glass she saw it was Buddy with squirrels, rabbits and a gopher hot on his heels biting and scratching his fleeting form. Leaping over the rails in one fluid motion she grabbed her quiver and bow and raced for the distressed Buddy. Notching and firing as she ran the crazed animals dropped mid stride. When she was noticed the critters turned and ran towards her. Turning her bow into a maul she swung in large sweeping arches sending little woodland fur balls flying.

When the attack was over she stood breathing heavily in the midst of a circle of dead creatures. As she looked at the massacre at her feet she saw that they oozed an inky black goo rather than blood. Bending over to retrieve an arrow Greyylene noticed that the eyes of the creatures were black with red rims, much like she had seen on Kerrs and Buddy.

Returning to an upright position Greyy turned just in time to see Buddy lock gazes with her and charge. The look in his eye was more than just anger it was complete madness. He ran towards her in a blind rage with a roar so ferocious it froze her where she stood. She was so stunned at his behavior that she barely had time to notch an arrow before he leapt and knocked her off her feet.

Clawing and gnawing at her he was more like a wild animal than the friend and crewmate she had come to know and respect. His hands were around her throat and digging into her neck as he picked her up only to throw her across the sand. He leapt at her again intent on violence and deep malevolence. The hateful glare he bore into her made the blood in her veins run cold as ice.

Once again he charged her just as she was regaining her footing. Both Pirates went flying several yards and landed on the beach in a heap. Buddy was the first to gain footing and grabbed her by the collar yanking her to her feet. His eyes were black saucers with a deep red rim, and the familiar inky line veining through his body looked to have spread like a rash.

The last thing she remembered was seeing the ink veined fist and smelling the putrid sickening sweet breath as he released curses and a blow square across her cheek. The strike across her face looked as if it would take off her head. Had he not released his grip on her throat it very well could have. Lying unconscious in the sand with a deep gash across her face that oozed her blood with the sick ink veins threatening the wound where Buddy had made contact she was helpless to thwart any further attacks.

Out of the background Kegan the Mad and a few of the other crewmembers of "Vharcan" stormed the beach to retrieve their Captain. Buddy had become so enraged with the vile brew that he was impossible to beat. Kegan gave the order to get Greyy back to the ship while he and a few of the others distracted Buddy.

## Chapter 134

Prudence had dictated the "Vharcan" set sail immediately and while Greyylene was recovering from the fight Kegan had given orders to pull the anchor and drop sails. By the time she had gained consciousness they were far enough off shore not to be noticed by the others left on land, but still within sight of the Port. The situation ashore had gone from jubilee to hostile so fast that most of the crew still reeled from the shock.

Once again Doc found himself sitting at the edge of Greyylene's sick bed tending wounds. Most of her wounds he tended were minor and required little more than a good cleaning. These were different and inflicted by a fellow Pirate, which made it all the more troubling. He had rejoined her crew at the festivities and was thankful to be back on her crew roster.

Bobbing lazily in the waves had given the Kegan, the Doc and the Navigator a bit of time to collect thoughts and examine the evidence left on Greyy's arrows. Kegan and the Navigator were relieved to have the expertise of Doc to help sort out the menace they found themselves examining.

When she woke Kegan and the other crewman were standing over her speaking in hushed voices. The pounding in her jaw brought her to a reality she had hoped was merely a dream.

"What happened?" she inquired her throat sore making it difficult to speak in more than a raspy whisper.

"Dat illness be one eb'lt'in it be." Kegan answered before filling in the rest of the story.

When it was obvious that Buddy intended to kill her, Kegan jumped the rail and ran for his Captain. Kegan arrived right after her body had gone limp but before any other blows were landed. He had charged Buddy much the same as Buddy had done to Greyy and delivered a shot across the offending Pirate's face that had not only broken his nose but had sent him backwards a few feet. But the exhibition of pugilistic superiority was far from over. Buddy was so completely drugged by the Cradle Rock Ale that his body never felt any of the blows. Kegan grew more disgusted with each blow and his growing irritation at the futility of the encounter gave him the brilliant notion to grab a nearby rock in which to knock Buddy unconscious. He was more concerned with the well-being of his Captain that the irrational Pirate.

## Chapter 135

After Kegan returned to the boat his injuries were examined. The discovery was more than distressing but began to answer some questions. Apparently the cradle rock has a side effect that had not been taken into account. Its insanity was violently contagious. The wounds on both Greyylene and Kegan had much the same look. Both oozed with their own blood but the area around the cuts had a black feathery veining affect. Even the bruises that were left held a black point where the impact had tried to break skin.

A sample had been taken off one of her arrows to be examined by Doc. What he found confirmed much of what the others had feared. It was indeed the poison from the black rock. It looked as though the poison had replaced the blood of the animals with the festering secretion of the malicious stone.

The behavior that had been witnessed was one of the side effects. The insanity altered perceptions and the ability to reason or feel. The animals that were chasing Buddy had been his "pets", or so he believed. When Greyylene killed them he had gone into a delusional outrage and attacked without restraint the one who had robbed him of his friends.

The doctor had given strict orders for both Kegan and Greyy to be under quarantine until it could be determined how they would react to the infection. None knew for sure how the infection spread or how long it would last. The only thing they knew for certain was that it was wicked and vicious.

A few days out at sea and the two crewmembers were getting cabin fever. Their moods started to match that of the seas and sky. The time of year for storms and heavy rains was fast approaching. The "Vharcan" floated aimless through the waves for days while the Captain and Quartermaster sat unable to have contact with anything other than the rats. Doc was hoping that the illness would at least kill the rats, but it showed that neither was infected to any degree of danger to the crew.

## Chapter 136

Finally able to leave their cramped quarters Greyylene and Kegan found any excuse to be out on the open deck. The sails had all been secured and the rest of the crew scrambled to be under shelter. Greyy dismissed the wheelman so he could get food and dry clothing, and Kegan relieved the deck watch. They were both thrilled to be out of their quarters even if it meant being on deck during storms.

Standing at the wheel with the wind in her face, Greyylene let her mind wander as she watched the waves. The steel gray waves whined and complained at the muddy skies and torrential rains but in their fuss and temper was an elegance and beauty that Greyy found calming. Even the water spouts that tried to touch the skies danced before her as if in an audition for some grand performance. The waves in their tantrum were such a welcome relief to the quarantined sailors that both found themselves singing or humming a little shanty.

Mid song Greyy stopped to glance over the deck rail as tiny pieces of wood took flight. Securing the wheel with the rope so as not to lose what bit of direction they had she wandered over to investigate. When she looked down she found Kegan whittling away at a piece of plank from the Navy ship he had hijacked. He was singing as he worked and the image on the board took shape by the rhythm of his tune. When she saw the freedom of his spirit in song as the waves and wind beat against his face it brought a smile to her lips.

Almost a day and half passed before the storm broke allowing for a general inspection in preparation for the next torrent. The seas were grumpy but not as hostile as they had been. The atmosphere on board was one of antsy anticipation. Many were certain this was the eye of the storm and that worse was waiting to pounce. A rumbling deep under the surface of the waves gave a clear indication that their suspicions may have validity.

## Chapter 137

"Ship to the starboard side, Capt'n!" The call from the wheel deck brought the soggy crew to attention. Far off course was a vessel baring the tattered remains of Navy colors. An eerie black smoke billowed out of its portholes and it listed badly. The sails were fully rigged but torn and ripped to useless.

"The glass Now!" she hollered back.

Peering through the spy glass to the wounded ship the sight aboard the other ship shook her to the core. The crew was still aboard and trying to make sail in the storm. Dead bodies littered the broken deck and a giant gash in the hull was letting in water faster than the crew had any chance of bailing. None of the other crew seemed even remotely concerned with the condition of their boat and in fact they looked as if they were having a celebration.

A closer look showed the malice of their situation. The whole crew had been infected with the Black Rock. Finally she saw the main culprit of the horrible scene being played out before her eyes. A keg from Port Redgrave had been confiscated and the sailors chose to ignore the quarantine warning and opened it.

"Kegan! Bring me the whispering stone." she said with a quiet determination. "Pull in as close as we dare to the other ship." She ordered.

Gazing up at Kegan looking for confirmation and support of what she was about to do. His nod back to her strengthened her resolve to put the infected crew out of its misery.

"Ready, Kegan? You think you can throw this over there before it blows us all to kingdom come?" His offended glare made her smile as she cupped her hands around his and the stone whispering the magic words into the smooth surface of the Whispering Stone. "NOW!" She ordered.

With a grunt and a mighty swing of his catapult arm the stone flew through the air towards the other ship.

"Turn us hard to port NOW!" She ordered as the whispered words of power repeated over the Navy vessel aggravating the remnants of the Cradle Rocks left in the bottom of the kegs.

They watched in stunned silence as the massive explosion over the naval ship turned the crippled vessel into nothing more than kindling. A thick blue cloud engulfed the offending craft then imploding in on itself causing a massive wave front. The "Vharcan" was much too close when the wave hit rendering them helpless to any course other than riding the wave until it dissipated.

Rushing to the wheel as best as she could and hollering orders to secure the ship Greyylene joined the wheelman to assist in riding the encroaching waves. Kegan soon joined them and the three worked together in holding the rudder true and surfing the waves as they tried to stay afloat.

When the barrage finally passed a menacing calm settled over the darkening sky. A deep groan from far below the surface threatened a new attack on the teetering stability of the cursed ship. The crew waited in nervous anticipation for another wave, but none came. One final spurt of sickening blue smoke was barely seen on the horizon as the last remnants of the other ship vanished under the sea.

A moment for a collective sigh and the rains came again as if to wash any evidence of the event from the minds of those who witnessed it. Only then did Greyylene notice the stench of burnt flesh and the metallic sick smell of the offending ore. The resolve to rid the world of the horrible rock settled deep in her heart. As she looked over the crew gathered on deck it became apparent that hers was not the only mind set on a new course of action.

"Oh where is that Monk when I need him?" She mused to herself.

## Chapter 138

The sun rose crisp and clear over the mooring yard of the Sandarian Navy. Soft billowy clouds moved in a lazy parade across the dancing waters to add to the sweet tease of a fresh morning. The birds sang their squawking tune just outside the window of the Captain of "Avenger". Bishop was less than impressed with the majesty of the day on parade as the disgust of the recent events invaded the serenity of the moment. The ships bobbing with carefree abandon in the yard echoed the taunt adding to the growing irritation in the heart of the Navy Captain.

The battle that had lost so many ships and given the Pirates grounds for bragging and continued ruthlessness sat bitter on his mind. He knew that the arrogance of the inexperienced Commander had lost not only the battle but their flagship named for the Empress. Now the task at hand would be to save his reputation and to regain favor with the crown, and himself.

"Damn Pirates!" Bishop muttered to himself.

A light knock at the chamber door interrupted the brooding rant but not the sullied mood. His temper was not soothed any by his guest. Lieutenant Horatio Washburn entered with a saunter and a smirk itching to be asked what was on his mind. He stood just inside the door waiting none too patiently for permission to enter and speak.

"What!" Captain Bishop demanded.

"Sir, I have an idea of how we can regain some ground that was lost to Greyylene and that scurvy crew of cutthroats! There is a report from Port Bistrot and New Hope of a new brew that is in need of becoming outlawed!" Washburn said with an excited energy.

"Go on." Bishop said intrigued.

The two men sat in the office for several hours as Horatio explained the rumors he had garnered of the Cradle Rock Ale and the story of how it came about. His source in Port Bistrot had intercepted a pigeon belonging to Captain Greyylene sent to her spy in the town. She sent word telling of the hazard of the Ale and warning her crewman not to go anywhere near the new brew. He was also instructed that if any was sighted he was to destroy it immediately without allowing any to touch his skin at the risk of being infected with the insanity.

There was a renewed energy at the prospects of regaining ground lost by the last confrontation with the Pirates. James Bishop was beginning to relax a bit and develop a new plan when a sharp knock followed by the door flying open announced the arrival of a hooded figure breaking the hushed tones.

Removing his hood and settling uninvited into a chair next to Lieutenant Washburn the Monk folded his arms across his chest and stretched his feet out far in front of him. The pendant around his neck glowed a soft teal blue and his smile was almost infectious if it weren't for the fact he was insufferably irritating with his grand entrance. Sir Gilead sat with the silly grin staring back and forth between the two men until he decided they were uncomfortable enough for him to speak.

"Gentlemen, it would seem you have a bit of a problem." he began. "It has come to the attention of this fair Monk's ear that you, James Bishop, are in need of some redemption." he said pointing to Bishop and garnering a steady glare in exchange. "The new Commander of the Military establishment is a buffoon, at best. It would be much better for him to return to service behind a desk and allow those who are familiar with battle strategy to do their tasks as they were trained to do."

"From your mouth to the Emperor's ear...." James muttered.

"Oh, fear not, sir. That has already been stated. And I will say that the little sniveling idiot who had been in charge was none too happy to hear me say it!" Sir Gilead said with a bit of a smug chuckle.

Reaching into the folds of his robe the Monk pulled out a small pouch and carefully opened it. The action caused his pendant to immediately turn a sinister crimson. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning the pouch inside out careful not to directly touch the contents. The two naval officers watched in puzzled curiosity as a smooth dark stone was revealed.

"This, sirs, is Cradle Rock." he said in a matter of fact tone. "It is highly volatile, contagious and brings about an insanity that at present has no cure. This is the stone that a few of the Pirates have used to make the new brew you were just discussing. It is a menace and will become a horrible liability to the Crown if it is not contained immediately!" He stated with emphasis.

Standing and placing the pouch on the desk of the Captain the Monk turned and started to walk out of the room. Pausing a moment to look back with a pleased expression he threw out one more bit of information that brought James and Horatio to their feet.

"Oh and let it be known, it is Captain Greyylene who is trying to save your Empire from this plague. It is Not the Militia!" and with that he strode out and closed the door behind him.

## Chapter 139

Staring at the innocent looking menace they were interrupted again with a polite knock and the presence of a runner holding an urgent message for James Bishop.

"I'm Captain James Bishop." he stated reluctantly. The runner handed his parchment and retreated with a startled nod at the stone on the desk.

Breaking the sealed parchment with surprisingly steady hands the contents revealed made the Captain's face grow pale. The "victory" at the expense of the Royal Flagship was paramount to treason, and it was going to be the fault of someone involved. A trial was to be held in two days before the Royal Courts and the presence of Captain James Bishop and any of his officers was "strongly requested".

"Ready the horses we have two days' ride to appear before the Royal Court. Make sure to bring your own reports as a deck officer. We will need all the information as accurately as possible." he said to Horatio with a huff. "It would be so much easier with the ship, but those Damned Pirates had to blast a hole right through the hull and slash the mainsails clean to hell."

Unaccustomed to being nervous for any reason, James used the excuse of travel to organize the events of the battle in his mind. His reports were still somewhat neatly stacked on the desk and almost legible despite the frustrated scrawling from the recollecting of events. Packing the reports into a satchel he again went over all that was done and written in his mind so as to keep facts straight and without emotion.

Idle curiosity brought his fingers across a parchment from the desk of Commander Horace Flintlock. His report would have to include the words from his commanding officer, regardless of the accuracy given by Flintlock. Bishop was never one given to padding the truth and the field report from the Commander that he now held gave a sour taste in his mouth.

Riding out of the Navy headquarters on the road to the Empirical Courts the small convoy of sailors took a wry pleasure in being land bound and on horseback. The trip was not a complete waste of time, however. Passing quickly through a small coastal village a notice posted on the town gate caught the eye of Lieutenant Roland White. Snatching quickly as they passed he tucked the rough parchment safely in his inside jacket pocket to examine at length at the next way station.

The road they took was more of a path cut through forests and glades rather than official high ways most often associated with the Emperor. It was an easy meandering passage used by merchants, peasants, guards and highway men with many places fit for ambush or respite. The trees provided shelter from weather and the soft earth was padded with leaves and clay offering just enough support for horses not to falter and rain not to wash the path into deep furrows and ruts.

They stopped for the night at a guard post between towns to water the horses and give aching backs and legs a much needed rest. While the men gathered at a pub for a bit of refreshing Roland took the opportunity to examine the parchment he acquired from the sign post. Reading the paper he chuckled to himself as he passed it on to Bishop and Washburn.

"Well, sir, it would appear the Pirates are up for some friendly sport!" he said with a mischievous grin.

Taking the note Washburn quickly read a general invitation to the annual Pirate Regatta. The three day event hosted by Kerrs Redgrave would begin at the Way Farers Inn and end at Port Redgrave. A series of obstacles would prove the worth of the captain and crew of each in attendance. There was no promise of a prize, but it was well known that any loot obtained in the race would be kept by the crew that obtained it. There would also be a gathering of the contestants to celebrate the winners and console the losers after the event. Cheating was expressly encouraged!

"One problem at a time, Lieutenant..." Bishop said with a grin. "Let's get through this errand first, how about it?" The whole mood changed after he read that note. Tucking it into his pocket Bishop spent the rest of the trip devising a plan to gain information and possibly make some arrests, if not secure the facts concerning this new Cradle Rock Ale that was beginning to make its rounds. He was hopeful that this would be his chance to make a positive impression on his superiors and possibly erase the mistakes of the last battle.

## Chapter 140

Riding into the Royal city always took James Bishop's breath away; no matter how many times he visited the grandeur was amazing. Sloping countryside dotted with farms and small ranches littered the valley protected by the walls of the city. The lush forests that shielded the borders hid a fresh river teeming with fish that ran through the North end within the limits of the thriving metropolis. And the soft fields of wheat and cotton danced in the breeze welcoming all travelers to the fair city.

All the roads were well manicured and highly kept making the way easy and pleasant for a horse, pedestrian or carriage. As the small party rode through the farming village outside the walls friendly smiles and greetings met them proving the power of wealth and comfort on a society. These citizens knew the glory of peace and prosperity, and it was a blatant contrast to the outposts merely a hill away from this grand city. It was the hope of most diplomats as well as the Emperor that this peace would remain for a very long time.

Once inside, the cobbled streets proved the advanced glory of the Capital City. The houses and markets stood as a testament to the impeccable opulence of the Emperor. He would settle for nothing less than lavish abundance and worked hard to have his city reflect that. The smooth stones under the horse's hooves sent a staccato clip echoing through the narrow alleyways announcing the presence of the ranking officers. Houses with clean milk paint colors and bright flower boxes neatly trimmed and manicured stood as glowing reminder of the relaxed pace of peace.

Arriving at the Empire Tavern's vast stables the convoy of sailors turned the reigns of their horses to the stable master to tend. Eager to wash the dust from the two days on the back of a smelly horse the men made their way to the main building. James Bishop led the party into the dimly lit foyer followed by Washburn and White. They blinked several times as their eyes adjusted to the change in lighting glancing around the space impressed by its simple elegance. Immediately the short rotund inn keeper scurried over to greet his new guests.

The keeper was dressed in the local garb of short trouser and loose fitting shirt that had sleeves rolled up past his elbows and a short black vest that was left unbuttoned. His stockings were a crisp white with shoes neatly polished but with the distinct look of daily use. An apron tied around his waist was used but neat and clean, and his hair was a salt and pepper mix tied in a neat pony tail secured at the base of his neck with a black ribbon. The hands that welcomed the convoy were thick and well use to work but warm and inviting. His voice was a deep resonating baritone full of confidence and a jolly chuckle that spread to his eyes lighting his entire face.

"And a Hearty welcome, friends!" the inn keeper said as he clasped Bishop's' hand in both of his bear paws and shaking vigorously in the friendly greeting of the town.

"Let me get you settled and we'll see to your supper. I am most confident you are hungry, ridin always does that, let me tell ya." he continued. Without pausing for any answers he turned and bellowed for the bar maid to escort the new visitors to rooms.

Pausing in front of Bishop and the Inn Keeper the little bar maid, barely 16 years in age curtsied to the men careful to keep her head lowered. Her flowing blonde locks bobbed around her shoulders as she moved framing the soft gentle features of her face in tendrils making her look almost like a pixie. Dancing blue eyes veiled in thick lashes laughed at the sheer joy of being alive, and the crisp lavender dress hugging the curves of her almost womanly form hinted at the childlike exuberance shadowed with adult responsibility of her age and station. Her feet were clad in shoes matching her dress and laced with a large ribbon tied in a bow that threatened to trip her at the first misstep. She moved with a practiced grace that teased at a training saved for the more wealthy section of society.

## Chapter 141

Leading the men to their rooms chattering as she meandered through the halls the little bar maid became a wealth of information, some of which was quite useful. Not only would she be bringing a meal to their rooms shortly, but there were other guests arriving to the Inn for the occasion of the Royal Summons. Not many were fully aware of the exact nature of the gathering, but speculation and rumors ran like wildfire through the corridors. It was even mentioned that the Commander of the Royal Elisandrian Guard would be in attendance.

Finally arriving at their suite James Bishop, Horatio Washburn and Roland White made preparations for the meal to be served in the common dining area. It was hoped that more information would present itself while they ate. Long days on a vessel full of the entitled had shown Bishop the importance of listening to the servant class. It was amazing how much the staff knew that the upper crust was careless enough to discuss openly.

Several courses in and a few lovely glasses of a fine brandy and Captain Bishop had a pretty good understanding of what the important matters of the town were. It was not necessarily the information he was hoping to attain, but it was a good indication of the flow of information. He was also gaining a new respect for what the Pirate had done when she began the rumors of chaos through the towns. Stories and gossip spread like an infection distorting as it moved through the populace.

After supper the men returned to their chambers retiring for the night in order to be fresh for the morrow. James Bishop unpacked his dress uniform and laid it across a small stool to straighten out the wrinkles. The grand colors of the Empire were impressive and shared the air of the Emperor's desire for opulence. The deep emerald doublet over the crisp white shirt accented the sapphire short coat and trouser. High jet black boots that went just past the knee acted as much for protection against rigging and other items related to the deck of a ship as for a glamorous style.

## Chapter 142

His night was spent in restlessness as Captain Bishop replayed events in his head and possible reasons and outcomes of the upcoming gathering. By the time the sun invaded the dark room he was ready to get up and get the day finished. Somewhat annoyed but quietly enjoying the ability to get "dolled up" the Captain smoothed out his uniform and did a last polish to his boots. A light knock on the chamber door interrupted his last glance in the tall standing mirror.

"What." he said with an irritated tone.

"Well, Captain, looks like time to meet the Powers that Be." Roland said with a bit of a smirk. "You look lovely, Sir."

Roland and Horatio stood just inside the chambers waiting for the Captain and inspecting each other with annoyed amusement. They were infrequently asked to don the Dress Blues and for the sailors it felt more like a display of pampas deception.

"Now let's get this over with, shall we?" Captain urged stepping from his room.

With one more glance at the mirror and straightening his sash James Bishop turned to go. He nodded for Horatio to lead the party. Flipping the handle and swinging the heavy wooden door wide Horatio Washburn almost collided headlong into a familiar face. Bernard Washburn stood in the hall poised for a knock. It had been so long since the brothers had seen each other that the moment of silence for one to recognize the other became almost deafening.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Washburn exclaimed.

"And lovely to see you too, brother." came the reply.

The brothers embraced then stepped back to inspect the other. Both were in full dress uniforms, one was the crimson and purple of the Guard, the other was the deep sapphire blue and emerald green of the Navy. Ribbons and medals adorned the men's short coats showing their accomplishments in battles and the bravery and honor they brought to their ranks.

"Wow, Bernie, it's been a long time! I thought that pesky pirate had killed you."

"Well she sure did try, I'll give her that. I will say that the wound she gave me is still quite the nuisance. It doesn't want to heal, but enough of that we have places to be. I was sent to escort you and your Captain to the Palace." Bernard said leading them out of the room.

Striding with an exaggerated air of confidence and bravado the men strode down the hall and through the tavern. Their caps were held under their arms until appropriate to wear. Once they were on the front step of the Inn, as if on command, all the covers went on simultaneously. The sight was as much comical as it was impressive.

The small group of men stepped in time towards the stables to collect their fresh mounts. The plumes on their covers waved gracefully in the breeze as they prepared for their short jaunt to the Palace of the Emperor.

## Chapter 143

The streets they traveled were so immaculate that their crisp uniforms were barely threatened to acquire any dust or grime. The stunning display of cleanliness mirrored the image of Castle Elisand. Tall white granite loomed over the city like sentries on display. Banners and colorful flags danced in the breezes as in a pageant celebrating the very existence of the land and the people who lived in it. The pomp and circumstance told all in the City that the Emperor was in session and that an audience was possible. The streets seemed to rejoice at the fact the Sovereign allowed such intimate access to the seat of power.

Riding tall in their saddles the officers and their escorts could barely hide the pride they felt in this Empire, even if their errand was less than personally productive. Crossing the gentle sloping bridge of the North Corridor and passing between its tall white spires tipped with flaming gold dragons perched atop as if on continuous guard duty gave an almost surreal air of sophistication. The wooden gate with etchings of ancient runes and pictographs gave testament to the age of this kingdom. Trumpets announcing the opening of the court gave the horses gait background music spurring them on to their final destination.

Pulling up to the gates Bernard paused for a moment looking over his younger brother one more time.

"Well, sir, this is where we part for the moment. I will see you soon." He said as he turned his horse off the chosen path galloping around a corner.

Horatio was barely able to return the salutation before his brother disappeared. With a nod and a shrug he returned to the other Navy Officers and continued to their destination. A stable hand had come to tend the horses allowing the images to continue to unfold before them.

The lavish finery of banners, carpets and candelabras that lined the meeting hall with an elegant grace demanded respect. At the end of the long aisle was the platform that held the thrones of the Emperor and Empress. A loud trumpet blast announced to the assembled that Emperor Prescott and Empress Beatrice were ready to be presented.

Entering the platform together, her hand resting gracefully on his the royal couple emerged from the side chambers. They were dressed in vibrant happy colors fitting the warm season. His tunic was a champagne color with gold embroidery accented with white lace cuffs, white pants with a satin stripe down each leg gave his long legs the appearance of added length and his feet were shod with crisp brown shoes buckled with a gold brooch in the shape of a dragons head. The cape that flowed off his shoulders went to his knees and bore the Empirical Crest.

The Empress walking tall and serene next to her husband had her hair braided and looped high atop her head pinned with glistening silver filigree combs and pearls draped loosely falling down her back. Her gown was a crisp sky blue satin lined with white lace petticoats and ruffles. Her deep sweeping neckline gently hugged at her curves showing off her womanly charms enough to be proper. A thick chain of pearls accented with a pendant of the Royal Crest hung at her throat giving her neck added length. She wore lace fingerless gloves elongating her fingers and gently covering her hands. Her deep sapphire wedding ring glistened in the sunlight sending tiny flecks of color dancing around the antechamber.

Once they were seated in their respective thrones the Emperor nodded to the herald to continue with the day's matter of state. The herald dressed in an almost mirror image of the Guard uniform colors of lush crimson and deep purple trimmed in gold announced with a booming voice the presence of Captain James Bishop, Lieutenant Horatio Washburn and Lieutenant Roland White of the Sandarian Navy answering the summons to appear before his Majesties.

Standing slowly from his throne Emperor Prescott took a step forward to address the assembled.

"The events of the recent past have brought a bag of mixed blessings to this palace. Where the battle between the navy and the pirate force, lead by the former Army Commander Horace Flintlock, did indeed win the day it is with a heavy heart I announce that there was an expensive price to be paid. Many of the fleet was lost or taken and the flagship named for my lovely Empress was sunk outright. This showed a distinct lack of forethought and planning on the part of the leadership, specifically that of Commander Flintlock.

I am aware that the reports from various Navy Captains have not yet reached my desk, because I did not request them. Regardless of this lack of further evidence it is blatantly obvious that putting one more familiar with desktops and paper cuts in charge of the sailing military was a grave mistake, and one I fully intend on rectifying.

Let it be here by known and understood that the rank of Commander has been removed from Horace Flintlock. Horace Flintlock has hereby been discharged from his post and pay garnered from his years in military service has been revoked. He is most fortunate that I am a generous man and did not have the price of rebuilding the flagship garnered from his civilian pay as well. It is furthermore decreed that Mister Horace Flintlock either recover the Bell to "The Beatrice" or pay to have it recast."

With a nod from the Emperor the Royal Chamberlain stepped to the center of the floor and pounded the caduceus sending an echo from the silver tipped wooden staff against marble reverberating through the hall. As it sounded a hushed pause settled over the assembled.

Continuing on with his declarations the Emperor again straightened to his full height waiting for the calm to settle across the throne room.

"It is with great pride that I announce the favors shown to other members of a rather prominent family of this realm. This family has shown themselves to be honorable defenders of the Crown and the peace and prosperity we strive to maintain. Each of the members who have shown cause to cross my path has proven valor and bravery beyond what is asked. Their continuing virtue and justice towards upholding the laws of this land are legendary. And on good authority I have been made aware of yet another outstanding achievement towards one of its members.

"Horatio Washburn, step forward and be recognized." The Emperor waited a moment.

"Bernard Washburn, step forward and be recognized."

A charged pause of excitement attended Washburn as he approached the platform. Kneeling before his Emperor it was difficult to control the proud expression beaming from his face.

"Captain James Bishop, step forward and be recognized."

"Roland White, step forward and be recognized."

"Rise, Horatio Washburn, Bernard Washburn, James Bishop, Roland White and receive your honors. All these men have performed duties beyond what they were asked or required in the heat of battle and against great odds. They have shown a capacity for leadership that has surpassed others of their perspective ranks and file. Even in the face of obvious idiocy they held true to the core of what the Empire upholds. It is with great joy that I bestow on these two the honors of the Horn of Valor."

"Horatio Washburn, you are hereby to be addressed as Lieutenant Commander.

"Bernard Washburn, you will hereby be addressed as the General."

"Captain James Bishop, you will hereby be addressed as Fleet Captain."

"Roland White, you will hereby be addressed as Lieutenant Commander."

The Emperor turned to each man watching as the medal was pinned to their uniform. With a nod and a smile he dismissed the officers and turned again to the assembled.

There were more speeches and a recounting of the battles and accomplishments of each man, but none who were honored heard any of it. They were so lost in the moment and the surprise of the promotions that the rest of the day slipped by in a blur.

## Chapter 144

As the sun arced its way across the sky oblivious to the lives of those who walk the path of the earth, a course was set that would change the very essence of those who bear witness of its passing.

Silent in his room preparing for the evening prayer Sir Gilead took a moment to pause in front of an open window at the Inn where he rested. A whisper of air blew across the holy man's neck and he paused to gaze at the sunset before turning his back to the sky and knelt at his bed.

" _Oh my Father, holy and just. You are the One to who all honor and praise must reside. You are the opening scene of the morning, and the closing applause of each day. By you alone do the worlds turn and take course in the heavens. The trees wave in awe of your glory and the birds rejoice at your breeze at their wing. The flowers radiate a glow that only you can provide. Even the rivers rush to feel your finger. The clouds paint the sky with pictures for your pleasure. And I am a mere man who seeks to do your desire."_

Greyylene allowed for festivities after a good day on the ocean tracking loot and plotting a course for the upcoming regatta to reward her crew. A whisper of air crossed her neck as she paused to gaze at the sunset.

Grand festivities after the announcements and promotions with lively music and dance took Washburn and Roland to a ballroom in the Palace. A whisper of air crossed the newly appointed Lieutenant Commander's neck as he paused to gaze at the sunset.

" _Lay my head in your arms to rest. Protect me from the harms that lie in wait for me. Show me the power of your divinity and love."_

Stepping lightly across the deck meandering towards the bow she watched as the sun set and the stars began their waking dance. The waves lapped at the horizon hoping for a chance to touch the heavens that tease just out of reach. A sliver of silver as the last light of the sun ducked behind the end of the earth gave a sweeping bow to end the day.

As Greyy gazed to the heavens a soft smile began to cross her lips. A silver streak across the sky froze the moment as the omen of ill winds ripped the dark velvet of the heavens. Others of the crew were halted in their duties as they peered at the eerie glow. .

"Back to it, boys, it's nothing more than a star on fire sending a greeting to the waters." She said annoyed at her own rising panic.

"But, Capt'n, it be 'n ebil omen o bad t'intay come." The response from a deckhand who had forgotten his station and blurted out what most of the others felt.

"I tell ye once and once only, this is not a cause for panic! Next one who says different will see MY Bad Omen on your hide! Is That Clear!" She commanded.

With a collective nod and release of a breath the crew resumed their activities with a bit less exuberance than before.

The dance was lively and joyous the food rich and plentiful but the veranda beckoned a moment of quiet. Stepping out to the railing the First Lieutenant leaned his hands on the smooth marble gazing to the sky watching as the last rays of the sun disappear behind the skyline of the city.

Almost out of nowhere a bright streak of silver began a path across the sky. Washburn had seen one or two of these in his lifetime, and they never had much good to come with them. This one seemed a bit different though; it had a bit of a blue hue to its tail.

He stood watching the sky with his arms folded across his chest when Roland White joined him.

"Well, Roland, what do you make of that?" Washburn said nodding to the sky.

"Ooh now That's a sight I don't mind seeing." Roland said with a beaming smile. "I've always liked how they cut the heavens like a big pie!"

"Figures you would use a comet to equate food, you are so predictable." Said the First Lieutenant rolling his eyes and a shaking his head.

" _Shelter this weary traveler from the wiles of those who would do me harm."_

A soft glow of the full moon caressed the light cloud cover with a shimmering haze hiding the fear of the comet in a shape of blanketed protection. Most of the men aboard "Vharcan" barely look up again the rest of the night, but the Captain took full notice of the anthem over head. Shifting winds brought together clouds that reached across the expanse of sky in the form of a wing. There were detailed sections that gave witness to feathers and structure pulling together giving one grand breath before fading back into the darkness. She rested against the rails watching as the moment lingered over her ship and crew like a soft blanket.

Washburn was always a man more comfortable with the solitude of silence. The grand parties were nice for a while, but they got oppressive quickly. He stood gazing at the night sky desperate to find the escape in silence he required. Watching the full moon take center stage being ushered in by a series of cloud formations with edges touched in silver and in the shape of a wing he took in a deep breath feeling the cleansing air course through his lungs.

" _Redeem that which is useful, tear away that which is not, let me become the one you wish for me to be."_

The clouds dissipated as the sound of rolling thunder echoed across the water, and as they moved forward a series of flashes arched from the water to the heavens in an angry sear. The booming roar sent ripples of sound across the bow. A reminder of the epic power of nature and the frailty of Man the light show continued to dance its fierce war chant closer and closer to the bobbing vessel. The crew stood and watched as the sudden storm raced towards them bringing to life the omen that had announced its coming.

"At ease, men."Greyylene whispered to the storm.

His eyes closed as he released the deep breath at the same time a sudden clap of thunder applauded the night making him jump. Roland was also taken off guard by the abrupt change in the attitude of Nature. A cut of lightning surged through the air leaving the smell of a fresh burnt match lingering in the mists. The rolling echo of thunder boiled across the land reverberating across the crisp marble floor.

"Well, Roland, somewhere someone is being taught a lesson in how not to mess with Nature." Washburn said moving back from the railing a step.

" _I am your humble servant, through the good and the bad; I will do as you command. Whatever we find will be worth the discovery. Take us away!"_

She closed her eyes and leaned into the storm with her very essence knowing that the fresh clean air would fill her lungs with vigor. The sweet breeze that followed filled the sails with a crisp snap as they were brought to full use. Spreading her arms wide to embrace the winds she felt as a bird in flight.

"Home, boys, we're heading home." she said with a smile. "Whatever we find will be worth the discovery. Take us away!" She said turning her back on the crew to let the winds and the waves surround her in tranquility.

As quickly as the thunder dissipated came the soft refreshing breeze of a summer storm. The air was clean and crisp with a lingering edge of excitement and energy. The teasing wind tugged at Horatio's hair threatening to muss his tightly bound pony tail.

Looking over at Roland with a renewed determination he stood with his hands on his hips and said. "Whatever we find will be worth the discovery. Take us away!" Then walked back into the party with a wave of his hand leaving Roland a bit confused as to what that comment meant.

## Chapter 145

The newly appointed Fleet Admiral James Bishop had been reassigned to an office at the Castle Elisand. He was still heady from the previous day. All the pomp and fan fair was far outside of his realm of imagination and he felt as if he were in an elaborate dream. He made his way down the lofty marble corridor to his office. He expected to be tucked in a corner somewhere with a stool and a side table for a desk. As he rounded a corner he discovered that not only was there more than a dark corner but he also had a secretary.

He was welcomed by his assistant, a stiff looking weasel of a man who was undoubtedly more geared for exacting propriety than leniency. As Bishop approached the man stood to escort him to his new office.

Opening the door with not so much as a squeak of the hinges revealed a space that screamed of high rank and success. The smooth marble floor covered with a thick carpet made from a local tapestry Master muffled footsteps, if one was willing to tread at all on the gorgeous piece of art adorning the floor. The desk that sat center stage in the room was made from a thick mahogany and polished to a mirror like sheen. Even the silver ink well was new and filled with the soft indigo snail ink found in only the rarest reaches of the Empire. The tapestry that hung on the wall behind the desk showed an ornate map of the known worlds done in rich colors and intricate details not normally found in wall hangings. The lighting came not only from two grand cathedral arched windows but also glowing sconces formed in wrought iron and twisted into elaborate coils with vines that wrapped around torches. The windows held drapes of thick sapphire and emerald velvets, the colors of the Sandarian Navy, and edged with gold tassels.

"So I suppose you have my day planned out for me?" Bishop asked his new Secretary.

"But of course, sir. You have several appointments and a ship to inspect."

"We best get to it then." He said as he walked to the desk to settle into the new surroundings.

Bishop took a seat behind the desk and explored the surroundings with his eyes. The space was fit enough for the Emperor, but the nagging thought that haunted him threatening to invade his boyish exuberance was how long it would take for him to get something messy.

Fleet Admiral James Bishop was a practical man, not normally given to elaborate displays of power. He would rather get the job done well himself than wait for someone else to do things for him. He didn't mind getting dirty; in fact more than one uniform had been destroyed or soiled beyond recognition during his career. He was certain that getting something out of place would take very little time or effort at all.

## Chapter 146

Finally recovered from the shock of his surroundings Bishop took a deep breath and laid the pile of papers on His desk, making a low moan at how quickly he had fulfilled his own prophecy of making a mess. Strolling to the window for a moment of calm before the parade of citizens would intrude on his peace he admired the view of the city in its early morning freshness. One more glance around the spacious office and he turned his demeanor to the "Fleet Admiral Face" so as not to allow any others to see his eagerness in the new role. A light rap at the door announced the day was officially begun.

His secretary appointed to keep books, appointments and act as currier for notes and messages scurried in like a near sighted field mouse squinting as he twisted his head so as not to run into things. A short man of indeterminate age adorned in the official colors and uniform of the Navy, but looking as if he'd never even seen the water of a well much less the sea, shuffled in announcing the first appointment of the day. His sniveling whine of a voice made James cringe visibly.

The beautiful new desk now had become turmoil of rough waters over flowing with paperwork. The first day on the job as the new Fleet Admiral of the Navy and already the reports were piling higher than Bishop was tall. Unrest in remote parts of the Empire, commissioning and decommissioning the ships from the recent battle, plans for a revised fleet, and the new threat from the Pirates were all screaming for his immediate attention.

By the time high tea was called in the Castle it was very apparent that the Fleet Admiral was in need of rescuing. Lieutenant Commander Horatio Washburn and Lieutenant Commander Roland White strode up the hall as if on cue. Their approach was unannounced and completely took the little secretary fellow off guard, and they were past him and in the door before he had a chance to clear his desk. The sight of their former Captain was so out of the ordinary that both Washburn and White stood in the doorway and released a full belly laugh at the sight of the Salty Sea Dog trapped behind a desk like a caged animal.

"Oh, Captain, all this high finery and you still get stuck like a rat in a trap. Nice desk, what I can see of it!" Roland teased.

Interrupting with a huff and a counter step in front of Roland the secretary wheezed and stuck out his hand as if to stop the towering Lieutenants from entry. Before anything could be said Bishop waved him off allowing the two men to have the afternoon appointments, and to shut the door there would be no need to disturb them. Slightly irritated the little man complied and backed out of the room closing the doors as he left.

"Gentlemen, what the hell have I done?" he exclaimed with a smirk. "I swear this desk stuff is more hazardous than dealing with those damn pirates. Look I have paper cuts on almost every finger!"

Roland and Horatio could do nothing more than laugh at the "unfortunate circumstances" of their former captain.

## Chapter 147

Settling on the arm of one of the grand chairs by the desk Roland reached into his vest pocket and pulled out more papers. The script was quite beautiful but obviously not in their common language and none of them could make out what it said. It had been found in the personal affects belonging to some fellow found in Port Bistrot. The poor fool had been found spouting off subversive jesting and rants in a local pub and since his motives were shady at best he had been tossed in a cell to sort out his mind. Instead of talking to the interrogators he insisted on pen and paper. The scrawling script was found by the guard as the man was attempting to pass the note off to another local hoodlum.

"I know this just adds to your pile of work, Sir, but I think it may be important to figure out what this thing says. Or it could just be some elaborate trap that pesky pirate woman has set."

"Ugh! I had almost forgotten about her. Thanks a whole lot for bringing her back up." he said turning towards a window muttering about the woman pirate and some other less than gentlemanly actions towards her. Ever since the Monk had made his announcement of her involvement and assistance in taking over the Cradle Rock menace his mind sat unruly and irritated where she was concerned.

"Oh wow, those are some nice ships there!" Roland exclaimed trying to change the subject back to more pleasant topics.

Turning back to the desk to glance over the plans for the new fleet James was happy to show off the new diagrams for the shipyard.

"With all the pirate troubles we had, the whole fleet needs remade. Even the flagship lies at the bottom of the ocean. There are drawings for three sloops, two carracks, and at least one frigate. I think I'm going to put in a request to let my ship be the frigate first. We're also using different lumber. I'm hoping that the timber found in the North Country will be less prone to splintering and have a better strength. Even the tailors are working overtime to make the sheets for these beasts." James said with a growing smile. "I am not going to be taken by surprise by those dirty scoundrels again!

Oh and I guess I should let you both know I will no longer be the captain of "Avenger". I would actually like Horatio to take her. Roland, I would like you to stay with me and become my First Mate on whatever new ship they make mine." The new Fleet Admiral said with a smirk.

The conversation was yet again interrupted by a light rapping at the door as the secretary escorted a tall dark figure into the office.

"This... gentleman... says he requires an audience with the New Fleet Admiral." was all he said before turning on his heels and leaving.

## Chapter 148

Washburn and Roland came to their feet poised to protect Bishop from any situation that would threaten, hoping there would be none. They eyed the stranger up and down for a moment taking in his full stance and making note of those weapons or other threats seen and concealed. He was a tall figure, slender in build with an easy grace when he walked. His long fingers and slender hands were wrapped in a soft leather glove decorated in elegant etchings and designs. When he pulled the hood from his face it revealed a face the color of midnight and hair white as a lily in full bloom. His eyes were fierce lavender with traces of a misty blue and his full lips curled into a scowl pretending to be a smile.

His voice deep and smooth as a glass of bourbon the stranger spoke slow and deliberate with a sweeping bow and a wide flair of his cloak.

"I am Claddontor of the House..." his voice trailed off a bit before continuing. "I have come to be a solution to your problem." with that he settled relaxed and confident in the nearest chair not waiting for an invitation merely sitting in silence for the others to gain their senses.

Rolling his eyes slightly at the arrogance of this stranger Bishop broke the silence.

"And which problem would that be? You are a master craftsman and can build boats?" he said with a smirk.

"No, sir, I know where to find the elusive Greyylene." was the retort.

"Go on."

"I have it on very good authority that she has sailed to the southern waters to find her own way on the seas and be away from Kerrs and his irresponsible crew. They have made a rather nasty mess with this Cradle Rock swill. The infection spreads quickly and she has no interest in being anywhere near it."

"So how is this going to help me?"

"She has not yet brought disfavor to herself or her crew, at least where Kerrs is concerned. Not to mention she is the only boat on the seas that can do anything it wants without consequence."

Intrigued the men listened more to the stranger's tale.

"You see, Admiral, her cursed ship can't ever go down! Did you not wonder how she happened to make it out of the battle unscathed while most of the other ships, including pirate vessels were in need of extensive repairs? It is the curse on her and her crew that keeps them alive and somewhat safe on these most dangerous seas. Many have tried to sink or kill her, some more obvious than others. But none have the ability or the know how in which to break the curse."

"Oh and You do?" Washburn said his arms crossed less than impressed with the information given.

"Oh no no, you miss the point entirely."

"Well get to the point." James snapped losing patience.

Claddontor paused a moment to clear the irritation from his face and his voice.

"You see I was on her ship as part of the crew, if you will remember me. I was the thief that helped you discover the Savage Ale she acquired originally. In exchange for regaining access to her crew I will direct her to you. I will even tie her up in a bow if that is what you prefer, but I must have access to her crew." he said. After making his request the stranger settled back in the chair arms loosely folded across his chest legs stretched out before them and waited for a response.

All three men were taken aback by the revelation of their former informant. His information had been sound but his devious undertones had given them all cause for caution. Now the attitude of Claddontor bordered on contempt.

Washburn watched for a moment, his ire stirring hotter. He was inclined to make some rather testy comments but chose to remain quiet instead.

"You are dismissed. If I require your services I will send word. Leave your information with the little man outside." Bishop said with a nod and with that he turned his back on the stranger.

"You will regret ever turning your back on me, sir." Claddontor whispered to himself.

## Chapter 149

After the room was silent again Roland set a steady gaze on the Admiral. It was obvious that something weighed heavy on his mind, but Roland was unwilling to break the silence in order to find out. He would simply wait until the information settled in Bishop's mind then it would be offered freely and without the need of prying.

"Gentlemen, didn't that seem a bit Too convenient? He just meanders in out of nowhere wanting access to the one Pirate in the whole damn fleet that I really want floating at the bottom of the sea. And more than that, he brings up something so outrageous that it's almost believable.

Then there's that Monk fellow with his warning and the statement that it's her help that keeps things in check. All that and Bernard appears all of a sudden too. This is all a little bit too tidy. Someone is up to something, and I need to figure out what it all means Before things get real ugly. I see that the Cradle Rock is indeed a real threat, but what does it all have to do with this Claddon... whatever his name is?"

Standing slow and deliberate Washburn paused at the desk and leaned in a little as if to tell a secret.

"Sir, one thing at a time. Isn't that always what you say?"

"Oh and don't forget about the Pirate Regatta." Roland said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Damn! I did forget." he said with a note of irritation calling for the secretary to come.

"Send a currier immediately to the Navy headquarters to take the fastest ship that is ready to sail to join the Pirate Regatta. It doesn't need to be finished, just sea worthy and fast. I will rendezvous at Port Bistrot in two days. Go Now!" he ordered watching the little man scurry off to carry out the directions.

"Oh Horatio and Roland, congratulations on your promotions I know you will do a fine job in your new roles. The ships will need men with clear heads, I am confident you both will do fine."

"Roland, you do realize that by becoming my First Officer you have essentially taken command of the new ship. I do not see myself spending much time on board."

## Chapter 150

The annual Pirate Regatta was an event that turned the somewhat quiet town of WayFair into a hot spring of criminal activity. The ships that collected at the Way Farer Inn reached out across the Empire to all the Pirate clans. Kerr's pirate clan was generally the host of the event, given that none of the others were clever enough to organize such an occasion without causing undo attention from authorities.

One by one the ships were moored and secured against other pirate looters, or those from town trying to prove their weight with the ruffians. Each crew knew that position would be important for starting so all tried to grab the best spot as well as one that was safe from vandals. In this case arriving early was not necessarily an asset.

Greyylene and her crew were one of the last to pull into port and they lingered as long as possible before going ashore so as not to present themselves too much at the Inn. She knew that her presence was going to be sought from her clan, but she was unwilling to interact if there was no need. Her last encounters were less than favorable.

In the back of her mind she wondered if Buddy even remembered his altercation with her and the crew or if the Cradle Rock had made him so mad he had forgotten altogether. She hoped he had forgotten, but she prepared for the chance he remembered everything. As a precaution she secured the ship with extra sentries hoping she wouldn't need to tie them to the boat to make sure they stayed aboard.

"Kegan, Bullseye, you're with Me." she stated then pointed to a few others to patrol the harbor for suspicious activity.

Bullseye, promoted to boatswain, was a crack shot sailor that had an easy manner mixed with a deep passion for the sea and the job at hand. His long legs and thick arms made him fast climbing ropes and tying off riggings. He sported a scruff most of the time, unless he was heading into town to "woo the wenches", and his bald head he mostly kept covered to hide tribal markings he acquired one night in a rather primitive outpost. Greyy thought they were endearing, but he was always embarrassed by the foolishness in which he got them.

Everything he did he went full bore without hesitation or question. In battle he was one of the fiercest fighters on deck, and in a pub he could drink most any man under the table. He and Kegan would often tag team potential marks for quick coins and solidifying their reputation as mean drunks.

Of all the men in the crew these two had earned the Captain's trust and confidence. They were two who would watch each other's backs, knew how to read a situation and above all worked in sync with Greyylene. The three of them moved together almost as one fluid entity with the ability to read the other's movements and thoughts almost as fast as they were decided.

Striding along the center of the street in a formation that cleared the way with awe and fear, the three Pirates made their way to the Inn. Once at the door they paused just a moment to gather a collective breath and staying nerves before entering. Inside they filled the door with their presence, the lithe female captain, the hulking Kegan and the lean Bullseye all with the no nonsense attitude of those fitting the title of cutthroat.

## Chapter 151

Kerrs caught the eye of Captain Greyy and with a long pipe secured between his teeth he gave a nod. Taking a stand on the bar at the back center of the room, a bottle of rum in one hand, he reached with his other hand to take the pipe from his lips. Quick stomp of his boot brought the assembled to order, or at least the pirate equivalent of order.

"This here be the gathering of the Pirate Regatta!" he began surrounded by whoops and hollers from other captains.

"This here race be a fairly simple one. All the ships are assembled at the Wayfarer's Inn to run a course set with marker buoys going north up the coast crossing deep waters towards Port Bistrot then ending at Port Redgrave. The three day event will encourage most forms of cheating, save crossing directly to Port Redgrave via Minerva's Cradle. There will be station points and check in points at ports for crews to acquire a specific booty for their vessel.

The crew that comes back with the most booty, preferably their own, wins. Stowaways will be considered spies and dealt with appropriately, unless the ship they're on is the winner, then the spy is toasted as a wile sea dog. Jumping into the middle of the race will dock points from loot not taken. And any who are captured by the authorities answer for themselves. We start at high tide." he concluded raising his bottle and taking a long drag from the pipe releasing a puff of smoke for emphasis.

Greyy turned to her crew nodding to leave when a heavy hand grasped her shoulder wheeling her around with such force it almost took her off her feet. Kegan and Bullseye moved in so fast barely anyone noticed there was a problem. They had their weapons drawn low so as not to draw undo attention to their actions but were more than capable of dispatching the offender should there be any further movement to harm their Captain.

"Woooah boys, j'st be me." came the voice of Buddy. His hand was covered in a leather glove, most likely hiding the obvious affects of the Cradle Rock. "J'stwish'n Capt'n here luck on this regatta." he said with an obvious slur in his speech.

"Thank you, Buddy." she said as she turned to go, not wishing any more confrontations or altercations.

Slipping out of the crowded Inn was easy enough, but their presence did not go unnoticed. Cutthroats and assassins from across the Empire gathered during this "Pirate Festival" to find jobs and marks. It was becoming evident that Greyy and her crew had attracted some attention from somewhere. The shaded eyes from working spies followed from all around the room.

"It's best we make our way back to the "Vharcan" quickly, too many eyes are interested in our movements." she whispered to Kegan.

"High tide will be in less than three hours. We need to ready the ship to sail at dusk." with that she led the others back to the harbor.

## Chapter 152

Stepping aboard quietly her first task was to take note of the activity aboard, reading each crewman's face for any sign of distress. Once the gangplank was secured she barked out orders. Retrieving the navigational maps from her quarters she came back on deck to show the crew the intended rout they would sail. Her main concern in this regatta was the sense of impending trouble she felt looming over her and the crew.

"I set to vote what we will do at the encounters we will face. It feels like we're walking into some sort of ambush somewhere along the way, and we're all in or we're all sunk. Kegan, you talk with the crew and get the general feel, I will be at the helm. Get me when you're done." Greyy said turning to stand at the wheel while the crew discussed the plan of action to be taken for the race.

A few moments went by with the Captain at the prow watching the waves on the horizon ebb and flow and lapping at the hull when Kegan and the helmsman approached to give word of what the crew had decided. It was by popular vote and the decision was unanimous.

"We meet any and all head on, Capt'n, like we always do." were the simple words from Kegan, seconded by a stout nod from the helmsman.

"Very well then, ready the ship to sail. Make sure we are amply prepared for battle. I suspect we'll see a few." She said before turning back to the wheel.

"Oh, and make sure to stow the Ale in good hiding spots, you know we will be boarded and I don't want anyone finding it, well at least not without a good effort. They will have to earn the find!" she commanded with a smirk and a wink.

As the hour grew near for the Regatta to begin the fleet of ships moved into position. Many of the crews tried to jockey for first row, but experienced crews knew that it was best to be near the end and watch how others handled themselves on the open waters. The "Vharcan" pulled up near the back and stayed near the outside edge of the pack. Becoming trapped in the mass of boats and sails had been known to be the end of the race before it ever began for some.

The tide rose as the sun set across the horizon and the eager teams stood ready on decks. The sound of a most pathetic blast from an ill trained trumpeter signaled the start. As fast as each crew was able in a thundering display of skill and agility empty masts snapped with full sails. Boats that were too slow in their start became obstacles as hull against hull pushed others out of the way in order to gain the best advantage.

Colors and sheets were cast to the wind as the last rays of the sun set the sky ablaze with vibrant reds and yellows. The deep purple hues mixed with the reds and blues applauded the beginning of a grand display of underhanded mischievous behavior and pure cutthroat savagery. With the sound of the horn and the mighty display of sails another Pirate Regatta was underway.

## Chapter 153

Greyy and her crew moved forward on the wind and waves as they passed several crews floating in the water bobbing helpless hoping not to be washed under by other passing vessels. Casualties early in the race meant more chances for collecting loot later. Under manned ships would often 'recruit' from crews in the water thus giving a higher chance of completing the race.

Final light of day silhouetted the mass of ships spreading along the course towards the first marker that could be seen glowing far into the distance by a good long glass. None knew what the marker was but all were eager to take part in recovering the bounty from its unfortunate victims. Most often the "marker buoys" were captured merchant ships painted in pitch and set ablaze. The fires would burn long and hot for several days and crews who were greedy or brazen would try to loot the items left aboard from the crew, some would find looting a tar ridden burning ship their grave undoing.

"Dark night!" came the command that Greyy used to tell her crew to be stealthy. All the lamps were extinguished except essential ones low mid decks. In this manner it was easier to let the sea and the stars guide towards a mark, as well as making it difficult for other vessels to see her. The sails she used were specially crafted of a deep green canvas that was more sturdy than the cotton sheets and easy to blend into the night sky. Only her colors, when she chose to fly them, gave any other reflective presence.

She knew there were other ships around and some were hunting her rather than the prize at the end. She was unwilling to allow a mistake as trivial as lanterns light to give an opportunity for the upper hand to one of those enemies. She was fairly certain she knew who had placed the bounty on her head; she also knew when it had taken place. Greyy set her course and her resolve to make any who wished to try for the bounties earn their pay.

"Kegan, you know of any obvious offenses we've participated in lately?" she questioned.

"Nay, Capt'n, j' st the one wit' dem dumb animals tis all." he replied.

"Very well, that's all I could figure too." she said with a nod.

Still perplexed but too focused to give in to the distraction she marked out the charts below deck. She knew something was amiss but was unable to put her finger on it. The time in the pub she could feel icy daggers piercing her soul as if she had been on some kind of Pirate trial. No one had said a thing, and most were civil to her and her crew. There was still something that set her nerves on edge.

"This should be the course if Kerrs is staying with the plan. If he aint then we'll cut across and head straight for Port Bistrot and whatever we cross will just have to move out of the way." she informed all who were present. Tracing a long finger across the chart she demonstrated both ways.

"The way it's meant to be should be marked clear enough to see from afar. If we stay near the front of the fleet we may be able to finish this with minimal casualty."

## Chapter 154

There are eight main check points along the way. The merchant vessels would not be altering their trade to accommodate Pirates so any that foolish enough to be found can be taken. Every check point should have a specific piece of bounty for each crew. The ship who reaches the end with the most of their own loot would be toasted in the victory celebration. Those who come in with their share and the most of everyone else's would be hailed as leaders in the Pirate Order and reserve bragging rights until the title was taken by another." She finished retelling the rules to her crew.

Some crews would try to put on a good show with advanced planning and plotting the strategy in which to gain the most loot, but the free rum and ale often made planning and fore thought a fleeting dream. Typically the ship with a strict captain or a determined crew would be those who finished well.

The regattas of the past ran on a predictable course. A heavy air hanging over the assembled betrayed the lively show as a front for something much more sinister. There was an unwritten plot that circulated around most of the crews. The crew of "Vharcan" was to be marked as a target of interest, any loot taken from her would add extra points at the end of the race.

The regatta was well under way and Greyy and her crew had worked its way up from the back end of the fleet to middle of the lead group of ships. The first check point was already burning from the ships before them, but not so bad that their loot was so difficult to acquire. When they retrieved all that was theirs they too set a torch to the marker adding their flame in order to make the others behind them earn their loot.

The second leg of the race was through open waters and could be easily lost if helmsmen and navigator were inattentive. The tight mesh of ships had thinned considerably where no other vessels were in sight. It would require the look out in the crow's nest to pay close attention to the horizon in order to keep the proper bearings.

The horizon was clear as far as the eye could see; deep green blue of the ocean topped with gentle white caps of waves mirrored the crystal blue sky dotted with puffy clouds. There was no land, few sea birds, and very little action from local marine wildlife. It was almost too quiet and Greyy began to get an uneasy feeling deep in her gut. It added to the already heightened sense of edge. There was something not right, and she hated that the perfect day was marred by such a feeling of dread. They stayed the course but were ever wary as they tried to enjoy the day.

As they sailed to the next few check points Greyylene's mind wandered to the Monk and his amulet he always had around his neck. She remembered its glow when he came around specific items and people and it made her wonder what color it would be on this trip.

"I don't need a damn amulet to tell me we're in trouble." She said out loud causing others of the crew to give her curious glances.

"Oh carry on." She snapped.

## Chapter 155

The Regatta was known for its ruthless behavior and unorthodox acquisitions. Every pirate who participated knew and understood the rules of the waves. Each check point was marked by some kind of floating debris pile. Each captain who registered to race had an item that was unique to them they would find and need to retrieve from the waypoint. The further back in the pack of racers the harder the chance of acquiring the item would be. The markers would be set ablaze as each ship retrieved their item and then threw on a lit torch. As more ships passed the hotter the blaze and the more difficult it would be to acquire any specific item. The size of the flame would tell how many vessels had passed.

Greyy and her crew knew they would have items unique to them, but the malevolence displayed in the items selected put a sour note in an event that was meant to be lively and light hearted. The piece that was sitting on top marked for Greyylene came in the form of a large jug painted with a large black "X" on the side. From the seal on the cork and the stale acid stench it was almost painfully obvious that its contents were Cradle Rock Ale. The fact she got to the way point late, in manner of speaking, and that her prize not only was still there but also no other flairs were lit gave her a bit of a pause.

The prize that sat neatly on top of the pile at the fourth stop was a bare piece of Cradle Rock. The vile hunk of poison had a pink bow tied neatly around it like a present. The mocking tone of the stone sent another chill through the crew knowing there was something very wrong afoot.

The crew had taken a vote and mutually agreed to stow the heavy rock far away from anything it may damage and lock it in a metal chest hoping that would keep its evil from leaking out to the crew. Once it was safely stored the pink ribbon was tied to the handle of the chest before continuing to the next check point. Number five was the final insult she was willing to accept. At the top of the mound tied in a pink package was the head of one of the infected animals from her altercation with Buddy. It had not been preserved in any way so held a horrible stench and was infested with writhing little Cradle Rock infected maggots.

Sailing a short way off course to regroup and clear the stench off the deck and out of their noses the Captain called the crew to set a plan to vote.

"It is abundantly clear that there are some sinister shenanigans at our expense. I propose we skip the next way station and go direct to Port Bistrot. There we will meet with Mister Porter and see what news he may know. It will be dark soon. What say you?" When she finished her proposal she stepped back to allow for the crew to chatter among themselves.

A few moments later and Kegan approached with Bullseye close on his heels.

"It be decided, Capt'n. We skip de rest o dis insolence 'n go fer Port Bistrot. If nut'n else we keep our own 'eads on our shoulders. Dis mess wit' dat vile rock be not so funny one bit! We won' be 'avin none o that sort o play." Kegan said with a firm shake of his head and a stomp of his foot. Bullseye and the rest of the crew nodded a firm resolve to not accept any more of the mockery. Finishing the Regatta in one piece had become a priority.

"Alright then. Ready the ship for open seas. Mind the deep waters and watch for ambush." She ordered.

## Chapter 156

As the sun set on another day of sailing and thus marking the end of the first day of the Regatta the crew of the "Vharcan" moved about the deck in a manner more suited for prisoners at the gallows than the eager sea farers and sailors running a race for sport. A heavy boding evil hung over the ship like a thick fog echoed in the sea and the sky. The sunset was a deep crimson with the burning sun a dusky hue of yellow. Stars in the sky seemed afraid to enter their canopy as the cursed ship made its way across the silver topped waves.

A new problem had presented itself in the shape of slithering ropes of sea serpents all around the ship. Their lithe bodies would bump and scrape the hull making the crew more on edge and well aware of the dangers infesting the night water. Closer and closer the writhing slithering snakes came to the hull making progress difficult at best. The prow was doing little to move the beasts out of the way and it was beginning to become a problem with their bodies entangling in the rudder. The water was so thick with the vile beasts that they threatened to capsize the boat and enjoy a meal of Pirate for their trouble. Drastic action was required.

A moment to think and Greyylene devised a plan to lure the creatures away from her boat.

"Kegan, how big a piece of Cradle Rock did we get as loot?" she asked.

"Oooh Capt'n ye aintt'ink'n what I t'ink ye t'inkin are ye?" He said as he reluctantly went for the chest containing the rock none wished to touch, much less see.

"Oh yes I am. I think it may be the only way to make a path enough for us to pass. We're in the thick of this mass and I don't think we'll get through any other way."

Dumping the rock into a large sack she held the top closed tightly before giving the whole thing a hearty smack on the deck hoping not to blow them all up with the volatile substance within. One more smack on the wood and there were smaller pieces to use. Donning gloves of thick leather and hoping it would be sufficient she reached into the bag and retrieved a smaller piece of the Cradle Rock. Glancing into the teeming swirling mass of serpent scales and yellow eyes she dropped the rock into the midst of a particularly thick mass.

It was almost immediate how the transformation took place. The yellow angry eyes that threatened to destroy the hull turned to a mad red glow full of the sickness. Each body that passed and touched the original one became affected immediately. The transformation not only was fascinating but horrifying to watch. All the serpents within reach of the "Vharcan" had become thrashing writhing wild ropes with no clear path or purpose. They moved away from the ship but in such erratic patterns it was difficult to know what they were going to do.

## Chapter 157

Two things became very clear in that instant. The first was that the ship was now free and their plan using the Cradle Rock had worked. The second was much more disturbing. The Rock itself had been altered in some way making it immensely more potent and much more dangerous. The other note of interest that came was the Ale made with this altered stone would also be similarly potent. None of these thoughts were comforting.

The aftermath of feeding the rock to the sea serpents was not seen for several days, but the stories of that night became the stuff of legends. It appeared that several of the crews following Greyy also found them in the mass of snakes and in so doing also became the victims of the insanity.

Two other crews were trapped in the vortex of the swarm. One crew in a drunken frenzy thought it a good idea to hunt for meat to eat, the other merely found themselves in the way of one snake leaping from the water and landing on deck. Both ships were ravaged beyond repair or recognition and lost all crews to the insanity killing each other without knowing what they were doing. By morning the two ships were declared under quarantine, and set ablaze to stave off any further contamination.

Several hours after the incident with the serpents Greyy was back on the course laid and heading towards Port Bistrot. There was one more marker they were forced to pass. Kerrs had gone out of the way to ensure every ship had to pass regardless of any cheating schemes.

If all was as it should be there would be a thick billowing cloud of smoke seen off the port side soon. Assuming they were not the first in the pack there would be clear indication on the horizon, but as hard as the watchman in the crow's nest peered he could not see anything. He even shook the long glass just to make sure it was working properly before peering again.

"Stay the course." Greyylene ordered quietly. The feeling that she had all day in the pit of her stomach grew stronger.

"Strike the colors, and man the cannons." She ordered. "I know we're close and there is something very wrong."

The crew rushed into action following the Captain's orders, uncertainty fueled the urgency and the nervousness of the crew. Suddenly a cry from the crow's nest spurred a restless frenzy.

"Ship Ho!"

Quickly grabbing the glass Greyy peered out to the horizon and as she watched the sky and sea became littered with sails. They were heading straight into an ambush!

"Hard Starboard!" she demanded.

As the ship turned heavy with the wind straight behind them the sails cracked to full and the small lithe vessel almost skipped across the waves. She did not know where they would head, but she knew to face the Pirates would be suicide.

"SHIPS HO!" was the next call that thundered across the deck.

"Yes yes, I see them!"

"No, Capt'n. Ships dead ahead!" the crewman said pointing out to the tall sails majestically lining the horizon.

"Well Shit!" was all Greyy could say as they sailed straight for the Navy fleet.

## Chapter 158

They were being sandwiched between two fleets. There was an ambush to be sure, but neither fleet realized who was to be the final target.

The pirates at her back shared the same winds that filled her sails and were closing quickly, but it was apparent they had not noticed the Navy presence. Once the two fleets noticed each other a battle would ensue. She had no intention of being caught in crossfire between the rival forces.

The pirates were by no means prepared to battle the Navy fleet. Many of the racers were already heavy with loot and plunder from stopping at way points. The cannons from the naval forces would ravage the hulls and send all their ill gotten gains straight to the bottom of the sea. No self respecting privateer would risk that, at least that was her hope.

Straining her eyes searching the horizon Greyy studied the crews of each navy ship seeking out one in particular. She hoped the officers would be on deck, as any good officer should be. Finally she found the one she wanted and began to bark orders and coordinates to the helm. She held on firmly to the rails as the wheel pulled hard to starboard.

"All ahead Full! She ordered. Their course led them careening headlong straight for Captain Roland White's vessel.

When the two ships were almost to collision distance Greyy grabbed the wheel and yanked hard avoiding the other vessel by mere inches. Her crew had taken oars to help push the other ship away to avoid getting tangled in their sails. Gazing up to the deck she saw the one she had sought.

"Roland, dear, so nice of you to come." She yelled up to him giving a mock salute and a saucy wink. "If you would be so kind as to move ye'r bloomin' arse we will be on our way."

"Oh really now? And are your friends needing me to move my bloomin ass too?" He said pointing to the other Pirates behind her.

"Oooh Noo sir. They be Not my friends 't'all, sir! Ye can do with them as ye feels necessary." She answered with a sweeping bow trying to keep the panic she felt out of her voice and expression. She knew that if either of these two forces were to catch her she would be dead.

## Chapter 159

The low sweeping bow from Captain White gave her the release she needed and the belly laugh she shared with her crew told them that for the moment they were safe. She had been far too close to let luck control her destiny in such a manner. Next time she would need to be more careful.

It was now quite apparent by the dogged pursuit of the Pirates that there was some bounty on her head. She would now need to be more conscious of her actions. Cursed ship or no, being hunted was not her idea of a good way to spend the day.

Cautious yet curious to see how the Pirate vessels would respond to the Navy presence she climbed the ropes to gain the best vantage point possible settling in the crow's nest with a long view spyglass. As it became clear there would be a confrontation the Pirate ships broke away to avoid being boarded by any naval forces.

As sure as the sea is deep when the pirate force discovered they were running headlong into the navy fleet and panic ensued. The Navy bore down on the pirates with grace and swift determination. The Pirate Regatta annual event traditionally had sea battles but normally was between equally weighted drunken crews. The vastly overpowered pirates were forced to scatter like rats from a sinking ship in the face of the Navy onslaught.

It was a great victory for the navy who had taken several ships and confiscated their bounty. Several of the Empire's treasures were returned to the chagrin of the privateers who had claimed them. Horatio and Roland had each gained a few big pieces of loot to prove their worth in battle to the favor of their commands.

## Chapter 160

As night ushered the end of another day a collective sigh blanketed the crew. They had survived another day and lived to tell the tale. With a relieved sense of calm they continued on their chosen course following stars and the current. They were in familiar waters and could almost mark their path blindfolded. The exhausted crew was looking forward to having the Regatta done and the target off their backs.

Well after the last watch "Vharcan" moored into Port Bistrot forcing them to remain on their vessel until morning. There was a strict edict on closing the gates at curfew and expressly stated absolutely no outside visitors allowed in town after the final bell was rung. This was fiercely enforced especially when the Pirate Regatta ran. The Regatta brought unwanted attention to the town that already had a negative reputation.

Safely inside the town limits hugging shadows Donny Porter anxiously scurried to the Pub hoping to find his crew sitting at the bar drinking and regaling the citizens of their antics at sea. He smiled to himself remembering some of the more colorful tales and hoped to soon add more to the repertoire.

When he rounded the corner and heard subdued laughter of the common townsfolk he knew the ship had not yet arrived. Saddened by the realization he continued inside with the notion of at least having one drink to pass the night.

The room was full but only one in the midst told a tale. The Monk had returned and was sitting quietly poised on a barstool. He held his staff in one hand as much for support as for emphasis to the story, and the other he cradled a mug of ale gingerly taking sips as if kissing a lover.

When Mr. Porter entered Sir Gil glanced and gave a little nod to the Pirate offering to buy another round for the newcomer.

## Chapter 161

"Who are you?" is a question I get asked often. It is also a question for which I do not have a short answer. There have been many who have helped to shape the clay that has become the man before you. Great journeys and adventures have given me abilities and items of great importance, to me." He said with a knowing grin to those who would seek to lighten his burden.

"Even my name is not my own, but was given to me by another. I am Sir Gilead, the holder of the Baal Shemen, caregiver to the Light of Mercy and the Staff of Justice. All of these are fascinating tales and well worth the hearing. Yet it is not of these your questions you seek an answer." He stated matter of fact his gaze boring straight through Donny Porter's heart.

"I think you wish to know the state of your Captain, young sir. Fear not she is well and moored outside the gates as we speak."

As the Monk spoke the words his amulet turned a dark hue of metallic gray and a hooded figure strode toward the door to leave. Most of the room failed to notice any change or anyone. It was common practice to keep one's eyes low and deny any knowledge of surrounding occurrences. The less knowledge possessed the fewer problems could be blamed.

Sir Gilead and Donny Porter however, noticed the tall cloaked figure and found his timing to leave oddly coincidental. They were both moving toward the door when a familiar character from the not so distant past strode in with a small band of musicians trailing behind him. The bard who had been seen from time to time throughout the lands had booked a performance at the hole in the wall pub stuck in the middle of Port Bistrot.

The Pirate Regatta had brought him to every port on the course in hopes of finding his fleeting Captain Lady Love and if nothing more at least retrieving his favorite pair of pants. He strode over to the bar keep with an air of feigned confidence announcing the floorshow had arrived. With a laugh and a nod they were unceremoniously announced and allowed to play. As traveling minstrels jobs were difficult to find. Any excuse to show off their talents and perhaps be paid was sufficient reason to enter a pub. At times members would be fortunate enough to obtain full time gainful employment. Losing a member of the troupe was small price for fame and fortune.

Long into the night the small band played. Their songs and melodies wafted on the breeze spreading through the town like a drop of ink in water. Greyy and several of her crew sat on the deck quietly listening to the music and speaking in hushed tones of future plans and recent events. There was far too much heat and pressure building within the Pirate ranks for them to complete the Regatta. They were forced pursue other forms of plunder.

## Chapter 162

At dawn the gates to Port Bistrot were finally opened and the crew of "Vharcan" found themselves still in one piece and not overrun by enemy pirates or navy guards. They secured the vessel and stowed anything that would be considered contraband in secret stashes before lowering the gang plank and heading to town for some real food and a bath.

Quietly dispersing through the town like water through the streets the Pirates went about their shore leave in an attempt at not drawing undo attention to their presence. Greyy and Kegan sought Mr. Porter for an update and to let him know of their disgrace within the Pirate clan. There was quite a bit that was in need of discussing and even more planning to hold fast to the toehold they held in the town.

One of the other members of the crew; a rather unfortunate fellow named Jarvis grew tired of the curse the "Vharcan" rode under constantly. His heart ached to be rid of the darkness that covered them all and he was desperate for a solution. He hoped that there would be some answer in the Port or he was afraid he would go mad being forced any longer on that tiny ship.

At the edge of town before the streets turn into the forest laid an ancient house rumored to house a fortune teller. Jarvis made his way to the house in hopes of answers to his current problem. He was certain that for a price there would be a way to break the curse on their ship and he would once again be able to enjoy peaceful life on land. There was a lovely girl he had met at one of the ports and he intended to return in order to find her.

Just before he reached the house a tall dark figure crept from the shadows.

"Oh, it's you! Ye startled me wit' all dat sneakin' about ye do. Guess'n that be ye'r way." He spoke into the shadow.

The familiar Dark Elf he only knew as "Thief" stood in the darkness with a sly grin on his face and a plan for the fellow crewmate.

"Get me back aboard and I will make it worth the while. I have heard of an amazingly simple plan for wealth beyond belief." The Thief spoke with a silver tongue convincing Jarvis to arrange an audience with Captain Greyy.

"What could possibly go wrong, friend? Have I ever led you astray?" The Thief took Jarvis by the arm and escorted him back to Greyy's ship for an immediate interview.

## Chapter 163

It was several hours before Greyylene returned to "Vharcan" from meeting with Donny Porter. When she found the Thief and her crewman on board her ire was stirred. She was not inclined to take the Thief back on as a crew member especially with the bounty for her ship. From the first they had met she had an uneasy feeling toward the Dark Elf, but he was an efficient thief.

"Good day, Captain. Do forgive my intrusion, but I have a proposition for you." He began.

Refusing to return his greeting she stood with her arms crossed allowing him to continue.

"I am in possession of an item of great value and it is in need of returning to its rightful owner. In exchange for this item there is a great reward. It has come to my attention that it is the desire of the crew to lift the curse put on the ship. I would think that returning such a powerful talisman would assist in that goal." He finished with a flourish pulling out an amulet that was neatly tied with a dark leather cord.

Greyy's blood ran cold when she saw the soft stone swinging innocently. It looked very familiar to the one the Monk wore and she hoped it was not the same.

"Tell me more of this amulet you have and where it is we need to return the foul thing." She answered.

"Ye also be needin' more of an incentive than just this bauble to persuade the men to leave the Regatta to do this errand."

"You will recall the dragon's nest we invaded a while back? There is a Savage village not so far from there, as a dragon flies that is. In that village lies a vast storehouse of dragon treasure." He said with a sinister smile.

"You can address the crew." She said turning to her quarters and locking the door behind her.

Several hours later most of the crew had returned. The Dark Elf had persuaded Jarvis to speak to Kegan in order to convince the others to listen to the proposition. The colorful description of what was to be found and the promise of a grand adventure far away from the Pirates and the Navy was more than the crew could hope. The vote was immediate and unanimous; they would sail for the new land in hopes of great wealth and perhaps to lift their current damnation, but mostly for the hopes of great wealth.

## Chapter 164

The task would consist of two stops. The first stop would be to a neighboring village where they would find a Priestess to act as mediator for the second village. It was said that the second village was fiercely hostile to outsiders but would receive those who held the blessing of the Priestess without incident.

Quiet and hidden Captain and crew patiently awaited their contact. "Amazingly simple" the task was called, and for that reason alone there should have been cause for pause. In the steaming surroundings they sat covered by thick leaves and fetid waters. The distant thundering growl of ancient dragons echoed off the low hanging clouds punctuating the massive degree of uncertainty felt by those who gathered as a witness.

All that was required was to return a simple stone to a "savage priestess". There was little reason to be hiding in the underbrush in order to return something of worth and collect the reward. The Dark Elf had insisted on stealth because the tribe was unaccustomed to outsiders. They were to be prepared to defend themselves should tensions turn volatile.

Returning items was an unfamiliar practice to a crew of Pirates but the promise of reward spurred them to continue. The air of malevolence put all the crew on edge causing tempers to flare. They had earned a reputation of being elite cutthroats, the nave "Vharcan" brought fear to the ears of the listener. How could they possibly maintain that level of respect within their pirate ranks by returning items?

The One they had come to see soon appeared, a tall elegant priestess elf with long gowns and a walking stick that seemed as much fluid as firm. Ebony skin and ice white hair set her apart as a Dark Elf. Her gowns were not the typical black or dark gray color, but were bright in crimson and vibrant blues. As she glided across the muddied landscape towards a small village the ground beneath her seemed to cry her name. Flocks of colorful birds sprang from their resting places at her approach as if on parade.

There was a glimmer of light that stole a moment and distracted the crew from the response of the villagers to the tall Priestess. There was no reason to attack yet an arrow from across the clearing flew true to her heart dropping her where she stood. The blood pooling on the ground seemed to make the earth moan in agony.

The arrow belonged to the Dark Elf. At this act of blatant hostility it was quite clear that it was not in the interest of returning an artifact to the village but to gain access to the Priestess. The act of open blasphemy threatened to plunge the "Vharcan" deeper into the depths of damnation. The rest of the afternoon and evening unfolded into such a display of horror and chaos the crew would never again use the name of the Dark Elf or refer to his presence aboard the "Vharcan".

## Chapter 165

His treachery was an act of a spiritual and political sabotage by his "House". He had been sent by his Matriarch to infiltrate Greyylene's crew. The fact he was recommended by one of the trusted deckhands became a matter of sore bitterness. The reservations that had been felt early in his service aboard the ship became fully realized as the day passed.

Deeply unhappy at the incident Greyy quietly went to investigate the body. The arrow that passed clean through her elegant body was one that belonged to the insubordinate male. The expression on the Priestess' face was not one of horror or even surprise, but of peace and a degree of mercy. Her chiseled jaw and sloping ears accented the clean ancient lines around the eyes that stared blankly to the sky. In death the Priestess' beauty and stunning power of peace was felt through the village and Greyy's crew.

Pirates never balked at killing anyone or anything, it came with the name of pirate. Killing for money was also part of the job description. Greyylene had tried hard to avoid becoming a mercenary or bringing undue attention to her already damned crew. This act of useless killing was all together unsavory. The fact that there was no payment for its completion added to the sour taste in her mouth.

As is the custom of most mercenaries a piece of jewelry or other important item was removed from the body. From the lovely Priestess an ankh pendant was taken to prove the task was complete. Heavy for its size yet light it seemed cold yet burning. It was a mistake, Greyy was certain, but the task needed to be completed. It was with heavy foreboding they returned to the ship.

The ankh Greyy hung around her neck and tucked securely into her tunic so no one else would bear the responsibility of their actions. As they boarded "Vharcan" the order was given to continue to the next destination. The whole crew was anxious to be done with this task and continue the path of their choosing.

## Chapter 166

They moored near an ancient inlet full of dark skinned savages and littered with the bones of travelers who had wandered the shores, some in the not so distant past. Undaunted they continued on hoping their luck would change for the better. The errand that called them to the strange land should have been of little consequence, but the fates had a different plan. After the assassination of the Dark Elf Priestess many of the crew had the desire to shake off the images and heavy feeling of foreboding.

Villagers that looked like homeless waifs meandered through the small clearings and string paths as though going about a normal day; they never glanced to the strangers who came to call. The lack of attention given to the crew was in glaring contrast to the warning they had previously been given.

The event that unraveled before them was devastating and unbelievable. A small child came running along the center of the huts; around his neck he wore a thick leather strap with a potion bottle and nothing more. The bottle was immediately recognized by its soft glowing hue as the kind that held a very volatile compound that would erupt in a fast burning fireball. The boy continued to run towards the Captain with his arms outstretched as a child running towards its mother.

As he ran the formula shook causing it to bubble fiercely threatening to explode. Greyy took her bow, notched an arrow and aimed at the strap binding the potion to the child, releasing the arrow in one fluid motion. Her arrow hit its mark merely grazing the child as the potion fell to the ground. She continued to run for the child hoping to protect him from the fire that would envelope him. In a blink the world turned black at the concussion blast that rolled across them.

The explosion that rocked the ground threw those in close proximity violently to the ground. The ringing that assaulted their ears accented the blackness that filled the crew's eyes with a deep and heavy unconscious stupor.

Things happened so quickly after that it was difficult to tell the order of events. The next moment found the crew and the child locked in the brig of "Vharcan". Most were unharmed, but the boy and Greyylene had burns and cuts from being thrown by the blast. The child sat shivering in the dark hold unaccustomed to the chill below deck.

Keys rattled causing a low moaning stir from the crew; peeking through the heavy veil and pounding ring in her head Greyy saw the Dark Elf standing over them with her bow in his hands and a wicked grin on his face.

Jarvis had been called "traitor" for bringing the vile Thief aboard. His usefulness had been used up by the lack of information he held but the Thief found great pleasure in inflicting pain regardless of the reason. Jarvis lay bloodied and beaten near dead at his feet.

"Tis the Sentence of This court that Thou, woman, art guilty to sail the depths of the ocean in shame and with the title of "The Assassin of Priestess AlaunArra" on thy head." The Dark Elf announced pointing a long dark finger at the Captain.

He then took the child and aimed the bow to his head. The intent was obvious; the child was a loose end and was never meant to survive the day. He was a piece of the puzzle to indict the crew of "Vharcan". They would be heralded as heartless mercenaries who would kill women and children for profit.

Never again would Greyy have safe harbor. They would sail continually with growing bounties on each crewman's head. The assassin part was true; the whole crew was comprised of mercenaries. To have such a thing advertised was foolish; to be marked as a murderer of children and women was enough for any bounty hunter to take up arms against them.

A slight movement from Jarvis caught Greyy's eye. She tried to keep the attention of the fiend so the actions would not be seen. In his dying breath the wounded deckhand gave a fierce kick that dislodged the bow from the Dark Elf's hand and knocked him on his back. Furious at the audacity shown in that instant the Elf drew a long sword and severed the head of his assailant from his body. As the head rolled to the cell bars the look on Jarvis' face was one of shame and sorrow rather than any sign of fear. In that moment he moved from traitor to hero.

Unthinking the wretched beast unlocked the cage and raced in to grab the child. In doing so he released all the captives. Not given to being treated as pent up animals the crew took the moment of weakness and pounced on it. Like a swarm of angry hornets the crew sprang upon him with the fury of a thousand storms.

The Dark figure who thought he was far too clever for a crew of dirty sailors was quickly dispatched. He was beaten and ripped apart, more out of frustration than anger, and his body thrown overboard without pomp or circumstance and no degree of sympathy or remorse. Before he was unceremoniously tossed to the sea Greyylene ripped the amulet off his corpse and tucked it away with the Savage Ale. She would return that to the Monk next time they met.

The "amazingly simple" trip was turning out to be more complex than the crew was inclined to pursue. More events unraveled at every turn. Before they could depart there was one last errand to attend. The child needed to be returned to his parents. One more "simple task".

## Chapter 167

They moved slowly through the dense brush and thick trees seeking the child's mother desperate to protect their injuries from the harsh jungle. What they found instead was a sight that shook the whole crew to their core. In a dark hut with not even so much as a fire pit sat a female native. It proved that she was the one who was working with the Dark Elf's Matriarch in order to assassinate the Priestess and implicate the "Vharcan". She was also the one who had been instrumental in covering Greyy's ship in the dark curse brought on by her anger.

Anger in her eyes and murder on her tongue she cursed the child for failing his assignment. Standing to greet the crew in hostile anxiety and with another child at her side she lunged at Greyy with a dagger in her hand. The woman was quickly disarmed and pinned to the floor putting the blade at her throat. Still ignorant of the truth in the matter Greyy showed the woman mercy.

"T'would be a wise thing for thee to forget thy ways and care for the children in proper female fashion. If I see ye take this action to me again it will be thy last." Greyy said in a low hushed tone.

Tossing her back to the corner and sending the dagger flying through an open window and into a tree well beyond reach the Captain made her point and turned to leave.

The next action of the woman was bone chilling. She was so intent upon seeing her assignment to its completion that she took her child in one arm and raised a crossbow in the other.

Before she could speak her threat Captain Greyy launched an arrow straight between her eyes pinning her to the wall beyond. In this action she left her two young children orphaned and with murderous tendencies firmly embedded in their minds.

The task of returning the child to his mother was completed; the task at hand was to return to the ship without any further altercations or surprises. Greyy and those who had traveled with her made their way back in silent brooding hoping for the safety of their ship. The darkness of their vessel seemed darker after the wickedness they had witnessed.

Almost to "Vharcan" and with the ability to leave the ominous errand behind them the party turned to flee and not look back at the sinister jungle. Skirting a tall tree opposite a clearing that separated land from sea they were met by the village Shaman. No one was certain if his actions were intended for good or evil, but the deep unsettling that lay over the crew like a thick fog was unmistakable.

Face to face he stood in front of the Captain and dipped his thumb into a small pouch that hung around his neck. The pouch contained black oil that he used to trace a line across Greyy's forehead. His forefinger and thumb dark with the heavy liquid began together on her skin and slowly swirling out over the eyebrows in shape of an eye before he withdrew allowing them to resume the trek back to their ship.

She was left to ponder if the mark was a blessing or another curse to be added to the already damned ship and crew, she hoped one day to discover for sure.

The profound impact on the crew became a topic none were eager to discuss. The images of villagers sending their children out as bombs seared into the minds of those who had see the potion jostled around the child's neck. The first true fatality of their ranks brought the curse to a new level of intensity. Those who were directly involved were irreparably altered and at the heart they knew their part was responsible for molding the course of the tribe as well.

Once aboard the crew prepared to set sail and be as far from the jungle as possible. The Pirates and Navy threat seemed quiet and tame compared to the evil that they had allowed to sully their ranks. Moving slowly away from shore movement from a break in the tree line caught their eyes.

Angry men barely hidden by brush and bark stood at the trees while relieved women sat in small huts. Huddled in the dark corner of the assassin's hut were her children. The dye in the pool of their lives set and stirred muddling the course of their existence. Behind them tall and silent the Shaman strode quietly to retrieve the unlucky brood of profound evil. Pounding echoed through the thick brush to "Vharcan". The men were beating their feet and spears on the ground and against the trees. A blood chilling scream suddenly cut off emerged from deep in the forest and it was painfully clear what had become of the children.

Tribal shouts and screaming spears and arrows flung past the heads of the crew embedding in the hull and masts as the ship continued out of the inlet. Tears fell freely from several of the crew and its Captain as they moved toward the horizon and away from the darkness.

## Chapter 168

The crew diminished and vulnerable to attack, low in spirits and damaged in body was less than surprised to see the Navy's "The Charming". For some it was almost a welcome sight. The enemy they knew and understood wanted to board, and the crew of "Vharcan" allowed without protest. But instead of looting and arresting the entire crew their Captain who was Roland White brought across his chief medical officer to assist Doc and to inspect the crew for injury and damages. Others of the Navy crew came aboard to repair and clean damaged places on the deck and in the sails.

The remarkable and unsolicited kindness of Roland caught Greyy off guard but she was far too spent to argue or question it. Without any word of explanation or fan fair they left as they had boarded. How the Navy had acquired knowledge of the incidents that had occurred none would ever tell, but to say they were a welcomed sight would be an understatement.

"Captain, we will resume the chase on the morrow." Roland said with a snappy salute as he moved away from her ship.

Watching the Navy vessel drift off the edge of the horizon Greyy finally turned her attentions to chores aboard that desperately needed tending. The first priority was to mourn the loss of one of their own. Jarvis "Starvin' Marvin" as he had been called was wrapped and prepared for burial at sea. Holding services of this sort was the most difficult especially in a crew that was small.

Jarvis was constantly eating something and the cook gave him the nick name to get him out of the kitchen. The name stuck with him and his real name had been lost to the waves by most of the crew. He was a tall scrawny man barely with enough meat on his bones to keep from blowing away in a good wind. His short cropped hair was scraggly and unkempt with evidence that he tried to be his own barber. He had large hands, almost disproportionate to the rest of his body. He had a smooth easy manner that endeared him to everyone he met, regardless of the fact he was part of the most ruthless band of cutthroats that sailed the seas. His only fault was his lack of good judgment in people. It was this poor decision that landed him aboard the "Vharcan" as well as got him killed.

Doc was called to say the parting words of their comrade. It was certain the speech was lovely but none remembered anything other than the events that flooded in like a tsunami. In time the blood stains would wash away and the vivid memories would fade but at the moment a hushed numbness hovered over the crew as they watched the body move across the deck each member caught in their own thoughts.

As his body splashed over the rails and sunk into the deep blue waters a heavy sigh spread throughout the crew. The troubles they faced were certainly contributed to the curse enacted by the Captain. They all partook in it and they would all face it together, until death ripped them away.

"Turn this bucket to Port Bistrot." Greyylene ordered as she turned toward her cabin.

## Chapter 169

Roland White and his new crew turned the "The Charming" back towards Port Bistrot. They followed out of sight of "Vharcan" making certain nothing more befell the battered crew.

"Sir Gilead, they're going to think we're hounding them." Roland called over his shoulder.

"Nay, Commander, they will not even notice we are here. They have far too many other things of bigger concern." Sir Gil said emerging from a dark corner.

## Chapter 170

A day and half passed without so much as a flicker of interest and "Vharcan" eased into their quiet private harbor barely noticing they had returned. They spent the days cleaning off the decks and trying desperately to erase the memories and images that haunted. When the call came that the ship was secure and decks swabbed Greyy strode to the center mast and waited for the crew to gather around her.

"We will be dropping the plank shortly, and I want to make this announcement clear. None of the events will own our memories or our imaginations. We will not be haunted by the evil that was forced on us! We will claim our own follies and this is not one of them. From this day forward none will speak of it, we will not mention the names of those who saw us harmed and we will continue to be the very best at what we are! Is That Clear?"

Her announcement was greeted with cheers and hearty agreement. Even as she strode boldly to the wheel; inside she felt like a small child waking from a horrific nightmare. Every fiber in her being quivered and quaked at the visions that ignored her command when she closed her eyes.

She was thankful for the shore leave and hoped she would be able to run into some friendly faces. Donny Porter was top of her list to visit, and she also quietly hoped the Monk would mysteriously show up, as he often did.

"We sail in two days time. Use this as an opportunity for a Bath! You boys reek!" Greyy said with a wink as the plank was finally dropped and the crew made their way ashore.

The last of the crew bustled off the ship Captain Greyy returned to her quarters to wash the grime and maybe be more presentable. She made it a practice to be the last to leave and the first to return in hopes of avoiding stowaways and such. Normally it worked well, however she did acquire a few of her crew by discovering an uninvited passenger.

Stripping off her tattered clothing she began to realize how battered and sore she really was. Bruises and burns were showing their ugly colors and telling more than she was willing to share. Gazing into her small mirror revealed deep circles under her eyes and an ancient woman staring back at her.

"This shore leave could not have come at a better time. You look horrible!" She said to her reflection as she gently touched her black eye.

## Chapter 171

Determined not to show sign of injury she found an outfit that was presentable, loose enough to be comfortable but snug enough to show off a bit. The deep blue skirt hung just below the knee in front and draped to her ankles in the back with a bit of a flirty ruffle at the hem, topped with a white fitted shirt that tied at her neck. She chose the cropped quilted jacket that had been tailored for her special from one of the port tailors they frequented. His craftsmanship was renowned though the land and she felt privileged to have been able to acquire a piece from him without having to bribe, steal or kill him for it.

The jacket fit just below her bust and fastened with a silver clasp square between her breasts. Sleeves were embroidered with soft nautical designs down the arms and ended in flair at the wrist. She had requested a jacket with a hood to hide her eyes when necessary and the hood on this one showed remarkable talent with needle and thread. The designs he inlaid with a rare metallic thread through the entire piece. Her short cut heeled boots finished the look.

She had no occasion to wear the exquisite jacket normally but a shore leave after the adventure they had recently survived begged to be celebrated. One final inspection in the mirror to ensure she was remotely presentable and she turned on her heel to search for Donny Porter. Before reaching the door to her cabin a thought struck her and she turned around toward the chest of Savage Ale she hid in a secret compartment under her cot. On the offhand chance she would find the Monk it would be best to take the Dark Elf's pendant rather than have to return to the place she was seeking to vacate.

Striding with a careful gait down the side of the main road Greyy made her way past establishments that were familiar yet different. So much of the town had changed since they were last in port. Some seemed more run down, others had new owners, but the tavern was deliciously the same! The best part was the music flowing from the open door. A bard and his troupe had come to town and were playing for a growing crowd.

She made her way into the darkness enveloped by the noise and people. Lithely she crept along the wall keeping her eye on the patrons searching for the ones she came to see. At last her gaze fell on a back table where both Donny and the Monk were sitting.

Joining them at the table Greyy took the dimly lit corner and removed her hood hoping the shadows would hide the bruising on her face. They made pleasant conversation for a while and Greyy listened as Donny filled her in on the latest news from town. None of them were particularly aware when the music ended and the Bard made his way over to their table.

About the time Greyylene noticed the Monk's amulet shift color a pair of arms caught her in a huge bear hug lifting her out of the chair with her feet dangling in the air. The sound of a bruised rib cracking was muffled by the rest of the din around them, but her agonizing moan brought the men to their feet. The Bard released her from his embrace shocked and embarrassed that he had injured her.

She dropped to her knees barely able to breathe from the fire in her lungs due to the broken rib. They retrieved a few more candles for their table and then it was discovered that the mighty Captain was badly injured. Sir Gilead inspected the marks on her face carefully as he tried to help her to stand.

When she was back on her feet and standing unassisted she reached out her hand to the bard and caressed his face.

"Ah my Beard Boy!" she said with affection before sinking into a chair barely able to remain conscious.

"Help me get her up to my room." Gil ordered the other two. Leaning over the Captain he slid his arm around her shoulders lifting her carefully and making her walk toward the back stairs.

## Chapter 172

The Monk's room was the last one down the hall and the only one with a large bath. Once they got the Captain to the room the task was to disrobe her as delicately and as discreetly as possible. None of them wanted to see her in the weak condition, but to help her mend they had to find what was injured.

"Alright Miss Captain, you need to explain all This!" Sir Gil said once she was disrobed enough to see the damage fully.

As they readied her bath with mineral salts she retold the tale of their last grand adventure in all its gruesome detail. She sat behind a screen covered in a soft robe waiting for the water to be filled; tears ran down her cheeks unashamedly knowing the silence on the other side meant they felt her agony too. The images she had tried to force away rushed back at the telling.

When the bath had finally been filled and she was settled in the deep tub with a towel across the top for some privacy Sir Gilead removed the screen so they could all see each other's face. Donny Porter was the first to voice the horror they all felt.

"Capt'n, I just donnow'at ta say wit all that. Nutt'n here so grand and excit'n as all that, then 'gen maybe excit'naint what ya'll need." He said in a hoarse whisper.

Greyylene, Donny, Sir Gil and the Bard remained in the quiet room allowing the Captain to soak in the healing bath. Twice the water was refilled to the point of sloshing over the edges but no one seemed to care or notice. The aching in her body began to subside and she was about to step out of the water when Doc rushed in horrified that he had not been present when his Captain needed his assistance.

"Ah, Capt'n, so sorry I was absent! Ye be in need o' me service I think?" He said throwing the contents of his medical pouch on the bed. He was so intent on helping her he had forgotten to close the door or notice the others in the room.

"It's alright, Doc. Sir Gil here was letting me soak in some mineral salts. I'm feelin much better now." She said wrapping the towel around her gently.

Embarrassed Doc began to collect his items fearing he was replaced by the Monk. Sir Gilead smiled at the ship's doctor and put a hand gently on his shoulder.

"She would be more comfortable if you tended her broken ribs. The rest will heal in time, but the ribs look a bit more complicated."

Another hour and the small party was again sitting downstairs in the pub sipping on a quiet ale Gilead had brought from some far off region of the Empire. It was just strong enough to take the edge off a harrowing day, but not so strong as to make one feel they would breathe fire if near an open flame.

For a while Greyy enjoyed the attention the men around her paid; she finally felt safe for the first time in many years. As the candle flame danced shadows on the table she allowed herself a moment to reflect back to her home and wonder how her sister was fairing and if they would ever meet again.

## Chapter 173

As the Monk's ale began to settle into their spirits Greyy startled herself causing a wincing pain in her side. Pulling the amulet from the Treacherous Elf from her pocket she leaned across the table handing it to the Monk. As the two stones grew closer both changed colors to matching sinister red. When the Monk took it both amulets made a sizzling pop and faded back to their inert colors. Sir Gilead held the blood stained talisman in his hand as he stood, bowed slightly to those at the table and turned to leave.

Striding through town in the middle of the road Sir Gilead made his way up to a small clearing. Many times he stood on the outcropping of stone overlooking the Port below. When he arrived to the place where he had spent many hours in fervent supplication to the deity he served.

As he knelt on the soft earth he noticed a small smooth stone beneath him. The surface was flat and unassuming yet the power that resonated from it compelled him to lay the menacing amulet from the Dark Elf on top of it. As images of the story he had been told rushed over him rage flooded his spirit and he took up another larger jagged rock landing several crushing blows on the offending charm. The jagged edges did no damage to its target but drew blood from the Monk's hand landing on the leather cord that was stained with the blood from the ruined Elf.

In a blinding flash of light a fireball struck the small alter throwing Sir Gil back and consumed the area. A searing stench of sulfur and brimstone filled the air causing the Monk to choke and gag. Turning away he wept bitter tears for the ones who had paid such a heavy price at the hand of the Evil brought on by the Dark Elf.

A moment after the fire landed it dissipated in an impressive display of light and power. The low whistling sizzle of hot rocks grew into an explosion that sent a shock wave across the town and far across the waters covering everything in its path with a milky blue haze. When the smoke cleared the heavens released their fury in a rain of fire that had never before been witnessed.

Sir Gilead was thrown across the clearing and landed at the base of a large tree. In town the crew of "Vharcan" was brought to their knees from the heat of the explosion. Few others of the town understood the impact but all were shaken.

## Chapter 174

High in trees across the water the Tabaxi of several tribes felt the disturbance in the air. The meteor shower called them out of their hiding places to travel to distant lands. Their presence would soon be required and the deeply spiritual creatures knew better than to ignore such a summons.

"The Charming" sat bobbing lazy in the harbor; Commander Roland White sat at his desk sipping a fine glass of brandy. The fierce blast shook the water as if it were cup on a table causing the ship to rock violently spilling the expensive liquor across the deck. The hair on the back of Roland's neck stood on end causing a low groan at yet another quiet moment interrupted by events far beyond his control or understanding.

When Sir Gil finally came to his senses the only evidence left was a scorched patch of earth where the small stone alter had been. The rage he felt was gone replaced by deep sorrow for the Crew and Captain of "Vharcan" but also for those in the village who had participated in the horrible events of the past several days.

Port Bistrot had been shaken by subtle tremors along with several neighboring villages. Some of the citizens had felt it others were oblivious to anything unusual. The crew of "Vharcan" had been profoundly touched by the mysterious power that was unleashed. Kegan the Mad ran toward the Pub hoping to find Greyy to ensure she was safe. When he arrived he found most of the other crewmembers had had the same idea.

No physical evidence was left to show anything out of the ordinary had happened but a feeling of peace rested on those who had gathered. The looming darkness seemed to have breaks allowing for the quiet peace to settle. It was a feeling most had not felt in years. The threat of being on the most wanted list for both Pirates and Navy held little pull or concern on the crew, they were finally being liberated from the curse and all felt it deep in their souls.

The moment passed quickly as an alarm bell echoed across the town. A messenger galloped full tilt through town loosing an arrow with a summons to a nearby building. The page held an Empirical decree that any and all Pirates would be hunted and brought to justice. It also stated that any knowledge of the substance named "Cradle Rock Ale" should be brought forward immediately. There was a reward for information and capture of pirates and the Cradle Rock Ale.

With the decree came heightened security in all towns housing any military establishment. Port Bistrot had suddenly become a very dangerous place for Greyy and her crew. They made their way back to the ship seeking quieter waters hoping the tensions would subside quickly. They did not realize the number of Pirates who had been taken at the Regatta nor were they aware of the grand stories that were spread about "Vharcan" and its crew.

## Chapter 175

The Navy fleet had been decimated by the battle near Minerva's Cradle and the rebuilding and repairs were far slower than anyone was willing to accept. The Fleet Admiral James Bishop was assigned the task of bringing in those who were responsible for embarrassing the Empire. Ships ran patrols continuously; any vessel afloat ran patrols regardless of condition. Those that needed repairs did while they made rounds.

"The Charming" had dropped Sir Gilead off at the Port Bistrot harbor before returning to their assigned waters. Lieutenant Commander Roland White had been witness to much of what had befallen Greyylene and her crew. He was convinced she was not a master mind of the horrors that victimized her crew, however the reports he read said different. Roland was amazed at how quickly the pirates had betrayed one of their own.

As dusk began to kiss the horizon of the open seas the call came from the crow's nest.

"Ship off the port side."

Roland had been given a lot of freedom in taking charge of the Fleet Admiral's ship, but he feared that if news of their failure to apprehend Greyylene reached his superior officer the consequences would be more than he could pay. As the vessel approached he recognized it as the "Avenger", Captain Horatio Washburn commanding. The ships came in close and line cannons were fired to allow for an exchange of crew and commanders to meet.

Roland, Horatio and Fleet Admiral James Bishop gathered on "The Charming" behind closed doors.

"Roland, I have disturbing news that you were aiding the Pirate Greyylene. Would you please explain how that was an acceptable decision?" Bishop waited for a response.

"Sir, I read the report and I must say that is not how I witnessed the events that were stated. She was indeed at the outpost but she was not the aggressor. Her vessel was infiltrated by at least one saboteur that I am aware. I had Sir Gilead on board with me. He was the one who helped us find her. Let me tell you, sir, they were in sorry shape by the time we found them. I know I should have taken them into immediate custody, but honestly I couldn't bring myself to do it. They were beat to hell, Admiral. She didn't even give me a fight when we boarded; no words, no attempt to hide anything, not even a whimper of objection. They simply had no fight left. It would have been unsporting of me to bring them in especially looking like that." Roland finished standing at attention awaiting his punishment.

"Do you know where to find her now?"

"They have a man in Port Bistrot we have been watching him for months now. If she isn't there now she will be eventually. We can wait for her there."

"Very well, give the order to double patrols and we will wait for her to contact her man there. Roland, you better be right or you will be sharing a cell with your new favorite pirate."

## Chapter 176

In the months since the proclamation the world had been plunged into chaos with nowhere to turn. The streets were crawling with guards rounding up anyone who remotely looked like a pirate. A curfew had been set for every coastal town in the Empire. Anyone on the street at dusk was immediately arrested and taken away in the back of a prison wagon, no questions only whisked off to the jails. Small towns that had been accustomed to rowdy behavior found themselves harboring more fugitives than ever thought possible.

Shop keepers and traders who had seen hard times before were prepared. Some had secret rooms under floorboards that led to underground tunnels. The tavern owners in Port Bistrot, Dragon's Watch and WayFair had a maps posted in a secret panels located in the storage cellar for those who required an underground escape. The problem they were finding was getting to these places unnoticed by the guards.

Day and night patrols would hound the streets searching for the missing crew of "Vharcan". The reports that were released named her as a devil ship. It was well known that not every crewman was aboard when she set sail, and now the Emperor and the Commanders of both the Navy and the Guard wanted to arrest of the "abomination of the seas".

Port Bistrot had become a hot spot of military presence. Donny Porter was at the top of the list to find and apprehend. By taking Mister Porter it was believed that Greyylene would come in peacefully to rescue her crewman. So many guards roamed the streets movement of any kind was difficult, and remaining unseen was near to impossible.

Skulking through the shadows desperately trying to return to his little trade and goods shop Porter realized just how dangerous the town had become. There were guards at every window, door and even the hole in the back wall used for speedy escapes. How they had discovered the tiny opening was horribly troubling. The question of how long they had been watching him shook Donny to his core.

He stayed to the shadows across the road hoping the darkness would keep him hidden from the patrols. The silent streets held an eerie gloom with a menacing aura of irritated unrest. Every sound made the soldiers jump to investigate. Several rats had met a vicious end by scurrying from a rubbish bin or window sill. The stray cats were generally faster and had the added benefit of night vision far superior to that of the soldiers. None the less every noise made the patrols jump and rush to investigate.

## Chapter 177

As Porter slunk in the darkness the movement of a cat threatened to reveal his location. Its high screech abruptly ended with low purring. Donny studied the darkness hoping to find a friendly face to be the cause of the cat's change in temper. Finally gazing into a low lying tree he saw two pairs of faint yellow eyes staring back at him. Before he had a moment to respond huge paws had covered his mouth from speaking and hauled him up the tree.

Terrified Donny perched barely sitting on the tree limb being held by a pair of thick hairy arms that wrapped around him and a paw so large it almost covered his entire face. He watched as the guards rushed the streets below him where only a moment before he had been hiding. When the soldiers past the terrified pirate was carried across the treetops out of the town and down towards the coast. When he was finally able to regain his senses he began to notice the surroundings. He was being taken to the "Vharcan".

Once aboard his ship he was released and finally able to meet his protector. A large Tabaxi towered over him smiling in a menacing feline manner that sent a chill down Porter's spine. The smile was meant to be reassuring but showed as malevolent grin of a beast staring down its next meal. Soft paw prints from behind caused the sailor to jump, and the clawed hand that settled on his shoulder sent the poor boy into a raging panic and in need of being subdued.

A silky soft paw descended from the darkness square between his eyes. The blank stare before Donny hit the deck was almost comical had it not been so terribly pathetic. Once he regained his senses Porter found that had been pinned to the deck by the backside of the large catlike warrior that rescued him from town. The graceful tail that flicked at the air gave evidence of not dreaming. A long slender blade lay across the lap of the Tabaxi, assumedly so as not to slice off the hapless pirate's head at any sudden movement.

The tall warrior peered down at the silly human studying him long enough to determine if releasing him was warranted. Rising to stand on his back legs the true height of the creature was astonishing. How one so huge could travel so quickly and quietly was a marvel. A low purr emanated through the Tabaxi's entire being vibrating the wood decking. Donny gave a little giggle at the tickling sensation caused by the purr garnering odd looks from others on deck.

"Where we goin?" Porter asked the tall warrior.

All he received in reply was a nod of the head as the cat leapt toward the wheelhouse. Donny followed still a bit shaken. He had spent so much time on land that much of his sea legs had been left behind. The gentle sway of the ship to other sailors was easy to maneuver but for Porter it was an obstacle course.

Kegan the Mad, Doc, Bullseye and several other crewmembers had gathered at the wheel. The only one missing was their Captain. Her absence made any thought of being covered by the curse and therefore protected fizzle into oblivion. Having Sir Gil and the Tabaxi on board helped to solidify the fact "Vharcan" was no longer an untouchable vessel. They were in trouble and it was painfully apparent outside assistance was required.

"All hands report." The order was sounded by Kegan who had the only voice deep enough to reach into every crevice of the ship.

The crew gathered quietly on deck the leader of the Tabaxi patrol stepped from the Captain's quarters to address them.

"It is our desire to assist you in this time of hardship. We owe your captain a debt of gratitude and for this we will hide this vessel until a time where the rest of the circumstances can be resolved. You will remain with us as part of our clan and we will protect you. If you dare to leave our protection the seas will take their revenge."

As the Tabaxi leader was speaking a low fog bank began to gather and form around the ship.

"Your Captain has taken a new voyage. She will break the curse that holds this vessel in the icy grip of anger and hate. What she does is her burden alone, and she wished none of the crew to suffer further for her mistake."

When he finished speaking an entire island paradise had mysteriously enveloped them hiding them from the powers that sought to capture them.

## Chapter 178

Preparations were complete; the crew safely tucked away from Pirate and Navy prying eyes, the "Vharcan" was hidden with her Savages. Greyy set her jaw to her next great adventure and rode horse back to the Navy Headquarters building. The horse was a magnificent creature but something less than what her sea legs were used to. Sir Gilead rode with her as much for a companion as for a guide.

Several days ride they arrived at their destination without incident. The Monk quietly blessed the Pirate Captain allowing her to continue alone on her quest. She was determined to end the Navy hunt for her allowing her clan to recover in peace. Sir Gilead would return to a quiet place and to research a cure for the dire Cradle Rock illness and Greyy would satisfy Horatio's need to be promoted. It was a grand plan with far reaching consequences, but the omens were positive that it was not in vain.

The quiet morning erupted in chaos as the great beast holding Captain Greyylene charged up the marble staircase outside the Headquarter building. Guards and officers scrambled to bring the outlaw to order. Swinging her longbow around her head and body Greyy knocked over lamps, chairs and guards who were far too comfortable to have been prepared for such an outburst. The horse leapt over a desk nearly smashing the secretary in the head with a hoof as the mount landed its rider flew through the air grabbing the edge of a chandelier raining glass crystals beneath her all to swing across the room and land against a tapestry. As the weight of her body strained the fittings of the ornate artwork ripped into shreds. The once lovely map that had been on the wall was now in a crumpled pile on the floor.

Leaping as if there were springs in her feet the Greyylene launched herself over two approaching guards flipping in the air to notch an arrow into her bow. When she landed the arrow took flight pinning the arm of another officer to a nearby pillar. The reception area had filled with men trying to capture the flying creature with no success. At the end of the chamber a tall door opened just enough for Horatio to step out into a picture of utter mayhem.

When she saw the door open she took another flying leap spinning over the top of one guard, landing and sliding between the legs of two others before coming face to face with Horatio. Pausing long enough to give a saucy wink she climbed the sides of the door entering the office. She took another running start before sliding across the floor between two more secretaries and Roland before mounting a chair knocking it over to tuck and roll across to the desk sitting in the middle of the spacious room. The heavy ornate desk was full of papers a few ink bottles, a tall bottle of some kind of ale and a cup with tea perched delicately on a matching saucer. With a wicked smile Greyy launched herself across the deep mahogany surface sending papers and bottles flying.

Horatio knew better than to try to catch the wild woman in her flight of chaos and madness. Instead he strode over to Roland and watched as the office exploded with papers, glass and furniture. Finally it was over and Horatio merely stood gazing up at his prize smirking at the pandemonium left in her wake.

"Well, sir, I hear ye were looking for me." She said standing on the desk holding the bottle of ale that she had rescued from certain doom.

With that Horatio and Roland simply applauded.

Horatio's trouble has just begun even with his little sparrow tucked nicely in her cage. As proud as he is to be credited with her capture deep down he knows she stole his glory with her grand entrance and dramatic display of turning herself over to authorities. His disappointment was shared with Roland and accented by the nagging feeling that the adventure was far from finished.

He was now floundering in... "The Greyy Area"

The Greyy Area

## Chapter 1

Lights sounds colors added to the cacophony of celebration erupting in the center of the Imperial city. The streets were lined with banners proudly saluting the Guards and Navy. Parade routs were laid and throngs of citizens were gathering for the grand spectacle. The conquering heroes of the realm were on approach dragging their "spoils of war" to present to the Emperor and his Empress.

The clanging of keys on metal bars and the grand display of cutlery by the guards and the guard captain announced to the prisoners that another inspection was forthcoming.

"Ready this lot for the parade." the guard captain ordered.

Fast as lightning, an arm reached through the bars and grabbed a tight hold to the first guard that passed. Yanking hard, trying to pull free, the guard jammed the offending arm into the jagged bars tearing cloth and flesh against it. As blood flowed, the raspy voice from within the darkened cell whispered a low warning that turned the guard's blood to ice.

"I tell ye sure as the sun shines, if ye take those two to the public display there will be an insanity that'll ravage dis city in epidemic proportions the likes o which ye haint seen in ye'r life time. Der be reason me crew 'n me be stayin' clear o dat dark wickedness. Already de insanity takes 'em. Keep 'm in der own cell n let it run its course." With her warning spoken Greyylene released the guard and stepped back to the wall of her cell.

The guard was terrified at her warning and chose to do as she suggested. He could already see the inky veining spread through the prisoner's bodies.

"What should I do with them then, if you got all the right answers?" he asked, muttering curses and oaths under his breath to keep from catching their illness.

"Ye really want'n me to answer ye will be keepin me outta dat parade o ye'rs." She sat back in her dark shadows.

"I want answers, scurvy wench! If they choose to parade you around like a show pony that is not up to me!"

"Fine!" She shot from her corner so fast he almost fell back when she slammed against the bars. "Keep them in their own li'l box away from any ot'r. Let the rats be their company and I dare say wi't'n a week they'll be nutt'n but a pile o rotted flesh!" She spit the words in the guards face making a point to be as menacing as she could.

"What is all this commotion and Why are the prisoners not ready for parade?" the guard captain demanded from the top of the dark narrow steps.

The order was given that the prisoners should be shackled in groups of two or three leaving Greyylene alone for her own cage. The two who were infected with the gruesome Cradle Rock Illness were left where they were; fear firmly in place of what would happen if they were let out in the streets.

As lovely as the city was, when prisoners were on parade the citizens turned into a raving bunch of animals. Litter and garbage had been saved for what seemed weeks special for the occasion to throw at the vermin of the criminal underbelly. The pirates from the regatta that had not been fast enough to escape the navy barricade became prisoners of the empire, and were now the public spectacle.

Greyy's prisoner transport cage was last in the line. Her cell was meant for captives to be executed and therefore only large enough for one to stand. With her feet apart she stood bracing herself against the sway of the carriage on cobblestones. Her hands were to her side and she wore a quiet reserved expression on her face. Fully expecting to be riddled with moldy bread and spoiled produce she refused to allow the throng of spectators to have the satisfaction of seeing her cringe.

The palace was the end point to the parade and the prisoners were to be presented to the Emperor and Empress as trophies. Grand speeches and retelling of the exploits in capturing the dangerous fugitives brought the crowd to a thundering cacophony of cheers. The herald's accounts were indeed entertaining if not entirely accurate. Through all the stories Greyy remained reserved and unimpressed.

By the time all the festivities were quieting the prisoners were smelling foul and covered in rubbish. It was uncustomary to allow bathing to prisoners but for the sake of the guards the rule was somewhat overlooked. As the pirates were escorted to their cells they were unceremoniously doused with ice cold water, scrubbed with long handled brushes and doused again.

As the sun was setting the chill of the dark stone prison settled on the soaked sailors. All through the night chattering teeth were accented by the incessant moaning of the two afflicted with Cradle Rock Insanity. Occasionally the screech of a rat being ripped apart would cut the darkness like a knife to be followed by the insane chuckles of the amused victims.

By the third day the moaning in the quarantined cell grew to a low whimper. As the guards began their mid day rounds a ruckus erupted. The attack was so vicious and grotesque that the guards did not approach until the noise stopped. When they investigated they found a grisly sight.

The two men had become so hungry and so enraged that they had torn each other apart. The insanity had confused them so completely that they were each strangled by their own disembodied hand. The blood and carnage left behind was sufficient to make the guards lose their meals. There were dead rats and body parts strewn across the cell disallowing any clean surface to show.

"It was told to ye that their illness is grave." Greyylene spoke through her bars.

"Is there a way to stop this?"

"Nay there be no cure. Tis a wickedness unleashed wit' nary a way to undo its doin'."

The silence in the cells was deathly quiet. No vermin or flies came to clean the foul butchery. The guards were at a loss to know what to do. It was necessary to clean the cell but no one dared touch the remains for fear of contracting the same wickedness that brought such violent ruin.

"Torch it." The guard captain uttered with a voice low and full of disbelief.

As he walked up the stairs the glow of flames on the walls kissed his back. The other prisoners sat in their cells with an unusually calm silence as the flames destroyed any remnant of the vile plague.

Find More in Book 2!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As a professional photographer E. M. Frear enjoys allowing pictures to tell a story. It was natural for her to allow words to also paint an image. It has often been said "I just wish I could read your mind" in a story the reader is given the chance to glimpse into the mind of the author.

For almost ten years words and images have traveled hand in hand through the use of forums and online gaming. In Black White and Shades of Greyy the adventures experienced have been given a fresh life and the ability to travel to the pages of a new medium.

