Shady Business Practices: (Closed to Red <3)

[Cards of Fate]

The House of Cards, First Floor, Library

Vincent Cain growled as he ran a hand through his hair. Ever since the slaying of the forgotten one Pode, the scholar had picked up more and more responsibilities. At first his promotion to the Emperor had been awesome, everyone was treating him better and giving him extra space to let him study. Then Leona begun dumping reports in his lap. “An Emperor should always be aware of what is going on the world…”

His candle flickered, sending shadows dancing across the room eerily. Bookshelves once filled with ancient texts had been replaced with tomes and tomes of transcribed knowledge. Every fact or story Vincent had ever read or learned was stored on these neatly dusted shelves. It was a bittersweet feeling, preparing what had been his home for so long for his own replacement.

His bloodshot sapphire eyes scanned the worn out document for the thousandth time. Documents about the cotton yields of Corone had very little interest for Vincent. He paused for a moment. He did however, know someone who would find use out of that information.

He rose to his feet and kicked his chair away. Growling he adjusted his wrinkled purple robe and sighed. He would need to go hunt down his favorite merchant turned assassin.

[redrout]

Joseph was asleep when he heard the knock on his door. He grunted, fumbling around in the dark for a moment until he found the latch for the door. It rose, and he opened the door, revealing Vince, who seemed quite upset. He stomped in, holding a candle in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. He set both down on the small table and fell into one of the chairs with a huff, folding his arms.

“Something vexes thee?” Joseph asked, reaching into the chest at the foot of his bed to grab a shirt, which he pulled over his head, wincing as his shoulders turned. He pulled up the other chair and sat down.

“I fail to see how any of this means anything to me,” Vince said, quite visibly irked. “Maybe you can make some sense of it,” he continued, sliding the papers toward Joseph.

Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes. “Vince, how late is it?” it was sometimes hard to tell when underground.

“Actually, it’s early right now,” Vince said, smirking a bit despite his gloom.

Joseph grabbed the stack of papers, holding them against the light. Hmmm, cotton production, ore movements, shipments of grain; aren’t these confidential reports? “How do you have these? These are only supposed to be used between buyer and seller.”

“Consider them, benefits, of membership in the Heirarchy, Joe,” Vince said. “We have people in a lot of places.”

Joseph turned his attention to the top report in the stack. Hmm, Corone is producing less cotton this year. If I could get my hands on some from Raieria and move it south, then….

Joseph looked up at Vince. “Do you think you could get your hands on some cotton from Raieria?”

Vince smiled. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

[Cards of Fate]

Several hours later the two were both buried among stacks of papers, each taking careful notes as they went about their work. The candle the scholar had previously brought in had melted down to it’s base and had been replaced. Outside several members had begun to audibly stirr going about their morning routines.

“Evenfar is exporting more Iron the normal.” Vincent commented as he passed a report over the barricade of papers between the two. The merchant took it and ran a cursory glance over it.

“Then we should try and buy it while it’s cheap there instead of in Salvarian mines. Then we sit on it and let the price go back up before we sell it…” the merchant mused jotting down a note. “This should be illegal, we’re going to make so much money…”

“Where I’m from it’s called insider trading,” Vince responded. “It’s very illegal, but we’ve killed people in the past. I don’t think we care do we?”

“We’ve peddled Salvarian Cotton, Piss, and death.” Joseph nodded. “No we’re going to swindle a whole lotta people out of a whole lot of gold.”

“We’re going to need some employees to do all of this.” Vincent mused. “And not just traders and sailors. This amount of gold needs some steel to protect it…”

[redrout]

“We need big guys then,” Joseph said, chewing on his pipe, which was smoldering quietly amid a haze that surrounded his head. “The bigger the better,”

Vince leaned until he was visible from behind a stack of papers, looking quizzically at Joseph.

“Initial gold won’t buy us much steel; and we need mean faces more than we need skilled mercenaries. We hire mean enough looking people and we won’t have to protect our shipments.” Joseph slid a paper into a smaller pile of the more lucrative prospects they had.

“We’re going to need trained mercenaries if we’re going to make any real money off of this,” Vince retorted, tossing three more papers on the less productive pile. He made a good point.

Joseph nodded, “And we can do that after we build some startup capital. We’ll need to start smaller anyways; we need to minimize the risk we’re taking.” He plucked the pipe from his mouth and tapped it out. Joseph was a merchant, after all. He grabbed the pile of their likeliest deals and pushed the rest aside. “I’m going to go over these, see what we should start with. See if you can find us some guys to help with the transport and security; I should have something for you after I get a little sleep.”

Vince nodded, grabbing their other papers and books. “Good. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,”

Joseph paused. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked after Vince as he left.

“It’s from Casablanca!” Vince shouted back.

Vince bagged his pipe. “What the hell is a casablanca?”

[Cards of Fate]

Sometimes living in a world without the internet frustrated Vincent. A lot of things could be solved in the simplest of ways. Instead of needing to walk over to Joseph’s room with a fuck ton of papers he could simply have sent him a text reading “Ayy Lmao dude check this out” and sent him a bunch of files over skype or dropbox.

But no, he couldn’t.

Now he needed to find some mercenaries, and there was no Althanian craigslist to browse and hit up local unemployed strong-arms looking for cash. Instead he returned to his office and began to write. None of his current reports had any form of mercenaries on it, so instead he drafted a letter requesting these sorts of things. He wasn’t quite sure who he was addressing though, Leona had yet to let the fledgling leader in on all of her secrets. After several moments of thoughtful writing he nodded to himself and affixed his new seal to it, a large ornate E made out of red wax.

Then it was time to play the waiting game.

Over the next few days Joseph and Vincent met several times over pizza and ale to discuss things while they waited. During this time the scholar took time to explain his sense of humor.

Finally the missives arrived.

[redrout]

(Note: the misspelling of fajitas is intentional, as Joseph has no idea of their origin)

“What about this one? He says he’s recorded over one hundred duels,” Vince said, handing a piece of paper over what he called ‘faheetas’, no doubt another creation of this alternate world. Joseph took the paper, giving it a once-over before placing it in a pile.

“I would say yes, but if he’s really been in a hundred duels, which I doubt, then he’s either lying to us or he’s going to need way more coin than we’ve budgeted out."

“We’ve already allotted two thousand gold pieces to the mercenaries we’ll be hiring, how much more coin could he ask for?” Vince asked, frustrated.

“One man is far easier to kill than four men, even if that one has won a hundred duels,” Joseph said, grabbing a faheeta. They were good, if a bit on the sloppy side. They had already dripped on several of the pages they were going through.

After a few minutes, Vince spoke again, handing a piece of paper over the food. “What about this one? He’s huge, says he’s over seven feet tall here. Painfully short description though, says he doesn’t want to fight but he will if he has to, that’s pretty much it.”

Joseph smiled. “Great, that’s just what we need. I dunno if he’s actually seven feet tall, but he’s probably still pretty big. And we hardly want the RRI to have a reputation of violence.” Joe grabbed the stack of their prospects. “And that leaves us with what, four? Yeah, four, all of whom are big, scary, cheap, and close to Radasanth; You want me to send the letters out? I know you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

Vince smiled, a little wearily. “Nah, remember, I’ve got that pesky magic that gets me around,” he said, grabbing the plate of food and the papers, walking out the door. Joseph gave chase.

"Hey, leave some of those for me!"

[redford]

There was a smooth rhythm to the clang of hammer on steel that rang out from John’s workshop in the early evening. The dual swords that some lord’s son wanted to show off on a mantlepiece somewhere were shaping up nicely, and if he put in a good day tomorrow he would be able to finish them and maybe start on some basic swords for the people around town. The dragon’s attack two weeks previous left a lot of buildings in cinders, and a lot of folk painfully aware of their lack of protection. He turned his attention back to the steel.

The striking of his hammer had a pleasant sort of repetition, and he made sure no energy was wasted. satisfied with how this one was shaping up, he doused it in water, the hiss silencing the crickets that gathered around his house in the twilight. He built the small residence away from most of Radasanth, the clang of hammer on anvil that was enjoyable to him tended to be irritable to others, especially at times such as these when most were just getting to their beds. The house itself was more of an addition to the workshop and not the other way around. A bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were attached to rooms dedicated to his craft, with a large workshop bordering the house on one side. He’d been working this forge for nigh on ten years, and his skill brought good money, though he had little use for most of it.

He grabbed the other sword lying in the coals with a gauntleted hand, still feeling no heat or pain from it. It was odd, the gauntlets had never come off his hands once in twelve years, and yet they never lost the look of highly polished steel. He selected a hammer and began to strike at the red-hot metal with as much precision as he could muster. He was getting good coin for this steel, and he wanted to give a good product, no matter how little use the swords might actually see. After they were forged and sharpened, they would need to be engraved with the requested sigils, polished, then delivered. When he went into town to deliver them, he’d also need to get some fresh steel for more swords; but those were tomorrow’s worries.

Another hissing sounded the end of work for John, and after making sure they were dry again, he brought them inside and set them on a bench, ready for a hilt and pommel, and eventually some engraving. John moved to the small kitchen and grabbed a chunk of bread, taking a bite of it before noticing the letter on his table. He looked around suspiciously; no one usually came out to his place unless they wanted work done, and those people didn’t come in the evening. The letter was sealed with a large glob of wax, stamped into an ornate E. John looked around again, outside his windows, but the evening was settling fast, and it was already quite dark. He looked down at the letter again, tracing the E with a metal-clad finger. Eventually he cracked the seal, leaving dark smudges on the paper as he opened it and read:

To whom it may concern,

I am prepared to offer five hundred gold pieces for the safe transport of goods from Radasanth to Ettermire. There is a ship, the Irillien, docked at port, and it contains the goods to be protected. The ship leaves one week from today. If you present this letter at the boat you will be paid one hundred gold pieces upon setting sail and the remainder upon delivery of the goods.

Thank you for your consideration,
The Raierian Restoration Initiative.

John thought, his brow furrowed as he set the letter back on the table. Ettermire is pretty far away, but five hundred gold pieces would buy a lot of good iron, or a few pieces of finer stuff. He turned it over in his mind. He could probably finish two swords before the boat left, and if everything went according to schedule, it would be a fortnight before he returned to his home. He tried to think more on it, but ever since he sat down to read the letter, the aches of a hard day’s labor were sinking in, drawing him to bed. He could consider the proposal more tomorrow, perhaps figure out how it had mysteriously appeared in his house.

[Cards of Fate]

It didn’t take an expert to see that the Irellian was a fine boat, after all it had been given to Vincent as a gift by Leona’s adoptive father and was one of the last ships built at the peak of Raiaeran power. Capable of out sailing any “modern” vehicle this long sleek trade ship was Raiaera’s treasure, and it had simply been given as a gift to the Hierarchy. That spoke heavily of the respect the elder noble families had for the shadowy organization and its power, even if it was still in its infancy in this era.

Now docked in Etheria port Vincent and Joseph had begun there ruse. The scholar had abandoned his usual finery for a set of rough leather trousers and a heavily stained cotton shirt that was often unbuttoned enough to expose the beginnings of a burly bare of any hair. His usually well-kept golden hair was now a salt soaked mane, and his jaw bore the faint scruff of a beard. In short he was playing every part of the young sailor amongst the crew.

Joseph had adopted a rather…unpleasant attitude. Bearing the finest furs and silks he had been nothing but trouble for the crew, unleashing a barrage of insults whenever someone messed up. Meanwhile Vincent had wormed his way into the hearts of the crewmen as a lovable new hire who seemed eager to prove himself.

It was the perfect case of good cop, bad cop.

Finally they arrived at Etheria port, a dark and dreary town coated in enough coal dust to make the native dark elves looks colorful in contrast. After the goods had been loaded the crew found themselves playing dice to pass the time.

“Com’ on laday luck! Gimme two threes.” Vincent grunted with a mouth full of jerky as he shook a fistful of dice.

“Fat chance Vinnie!” a larger man with two barrels for arms growled. The scholar grinned and threw his dice and all were silent as two threes were revealed.

“OH EAT IT DONNIE!” Vince roared raising to his feet. “Gettin’ luckier than yer ugly ass brother in a convent full of blind nymphomaniacs!” The young “sailor” strutted around a bit as the other men laughed and chuckled at the boys flamboyant display.

“You’d swear Jomill herself favored this boy!” The older man, Donnie, managed as he rose to his feet. “I mean at this rate none of us are gonna go home with any of our money!”
Vincent bowed and scooped up several coins and dropped in his pocket. “Ill stop betting with y’all if you want, but you lose your chance to get yer money back.” Suddenly all voices and laughter stopped as a large man in ornate clothing towered over them from the helm.

“You better pray you’re not gambling on MY ship!” A giant of a man spat between clenched teeth. His eyes scanned the crew and settled on Vincent before his gaze wavered slightly. “Look alive mates, we have a new crew member joining us, his name is John.” He gestured to an even larger man with massive gauntlets.

“Oi look at the mitts on that fuckers fists…” Vincent muttered. “Oi Mittens, where did you get the fancy bling?”

[redrout]

Joseph paraded himself across the deck of the Irillien. His silver-capped walking cane tapped on the beams, and he occasionally stopped to look out across the water. His other arm was tucked behind his back, and he kept his head high, short though he was. Joseph considered his position for the hundredth time that day.

The air of a noble was not one of richness, nor of pride, though those were important. The air of a noble was one of invincibility, of power so rooted in society that it could not be taken away. Then, pride and riches followed. And Joseph played the part perfectly. The sailors without exception turned their gaze away when he looked at them, and looked at him with disdain when they thought he would not notice.

Honestly, this is easier than I thought. Joseph had often played the part of a noble in the past, but it was mostly just to get close to a target, which meant that he needed the disguise for only a few minutes. However, this situation was different. He’d be spending several days with these sailors and mercenaries, and that required a much more convincing forgery.

Joseph tilted his head back a little to see under his wide-brimmed hat with a feather. It matched his trousers and jacket, all of them a dark green. His socks and vests were gold-colored, giving him a flamboyant air. Vincent had called him a ‘pimp’.

He looked back toward the gangplank, and there stood a man. It was the largest human being Joseph had ever seen. The stranger was so overwhelmingly massive that Joseph nearly broke character as he examined him. He was large everywhere, large legs, large hips, and he tapered up to wide shoulders and a thick neck. Joseph absently wondered how he fed himself, or for that matter, just how he’d managed to find a shirt and trousers that actually fit. Vincent shouted at him, and the large man’s eyes narrowed. It was then that Joseph noticed the gauntlets. They hugged his forearms tightly, and from a cursory examination seemed to be made of polished silver.

How odd… Joseph thought as he approached, overhearing the man’s name.

“Now, Vincent, let’s not make the man angry, especially since he’ll be making more in this week than you will all season,” Joseph said. He grabbed a pouch of coins from one of his pockets, tossing it to John. “Now, John, if you’re quite done with these ruffians, we can talk business.” Joseph finished as he tossed the pouch to John, who caught it deftly. His metallic gloves seemed elastic, almost. Perhaps they were magic, the damnable stuff seemed to be everywhere of late. He looked to his side for a second, brushing a mote of dust off his shoulder before turning to the ship’s stern, where his cabin was.

“Now," John said firmly, "Captain Marshe, I think I’ll retire for the afternoon. Do send any more mercenaries that show up into my quarters, if you please,” he said as he walked back toward his room.

[redford]

The gangplank creaked under John’s weight as he walked up it, following the captain, Daniel Marshe onto the Irillien. It was a magnificent ship, built of good hardwood, well-maintained and engraved around the windows. There was a great painted wooden lady at the bow of the ship, wings for arms stretched behind her forming the rails at the foredeck. She was a beautiful ship, of that there was no doubt. She was accented in dark green, but most of the hull of the ship was simply beautiful polished wood.

The sailors, however, were not as dignified as what they rode upon. Several of them were playing at dice when he crossed onto the boat proper, and several looked up, not having the sense to look away again. One of them was of the more daring or foolish sort, and commented on his size. John paid no heed to the heckling, and followed the captain, who scolded the men thoroughly.

A smaller man to the side, dressed as lavishly as possible, and began smoothly condescending to the sailors. It was the derision only a noble could muster, and as he tossed a purse of coins to John. He was pompous and callous, and afforded the rest of the crew, captain, and John with only the amount of respect required by one of John’s standing. It was disdain, plain and simple, and it ground upon John’s nerves like a millstone. Even his voice was annoying. But, the coin was good, and it seemed he’d be spending the time in relative comfort, so it would be bearable.

The small man motioned for him to follow, walking toward and through a door to the bridge of the ship. The place was lavishly furnished, and a pair of nice lanterns sat at either side of the wide room. It was a triangular shaped room, with two curved walls that were parts of the hull. Two windows gave a view out into the harbor, and John was barely able to stand upright in the room. Joseph sat down behind a finely carved wooden desk as the door opened and a burly man stepped through, a giant axe strapped to his back. Joseph spoke.

“Excellent,” he tossed the other man his bag of coins. “Let’s talk business, shall we? Have a seat.”

[Cards of Fate]

Whilst the three retired into the captains quarters, Vince found himself sitting on the deck rather annoyed.I know I told him to play the part but good lord...The scholar mused to himself. The other sailors grunted and spat several unpleasant things about the captain, their employer, and the giant behind there backs. Vince went about his work, fastening lines, hauling cargo, and making sure everything that needed to be loaded on the boat did so. Afterwards, when the crew was simply waiting for the captains orders to push out, he found himself playing dice with the crew once more.

Donnie, a portly man with no hair on any part of his body seemed eager to throw all of his gold at Vincent's absurd luck. Albert, a skinny man who appeared to have no business on the boat spoke up. "Did ya'll hear this boat is owned one of the blokes that slew Pode?"

The statement caught Vincent off gaurd as he chucked a set of dice, causing them to careen wildly and almost go overboard. "Excuse me?" the scholar asked. "Didja just say we're on the boat of a Podeslayer?" the men all nodded. Rumours of the purge of the red forest had traveled quickly.

"Yeah, and it aint this cocksucker up with the captin either. They say his name is Cain, a mean motherfucker indeed." Albert continued. "I heard the son ova bitch dealt the killing blow to the bitch herself, tore her head right off." The crew oohed and ahhed for a moment as Vince tried desperately not to lose his cover.

"They really say that bout this Cain fella?" he asked. "Never heard of no man who could rip a goddesses head off."

"And more!" Albert exclaimed slapping his knee. "I was in Beinost when the ship left Raiaera! Some of the men I talked to served under him! Said he was seven feet tall! Mane of golden hair like a fukkin lion mates!" Albert continued to spin this tale of a herculean figure while Vince simply glowed in the fact that he was having tall tales spun about himself.

"I heard there was five of them Pode killer blokes!" Donnie interjected. "And all of the other four was dames!" The crew paused for a moment before bursting in laughter.

"DAMES!" Albert cried. "Must have been one 'ell of a fukkin cat fight!" The entire crew calmed down to a chuckle before Vince rose to his feet.

"Good thaynes, how fuckin long are they gonna take in there!" he growled. "Let me go see what mittens and cocksucker are up to..." before he trudged off towards the captains quarters.

[redrout]

Joseph was busy explaining their route to the captain and their mercenary before Vincent burst through the door. For a split second, he was the Emperor, the learned scholar, his visage keen and his eyes bright, standing tall at the doorway, before he recovered his composure. Joseph raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Have you something to add, Mr…..” The enterprising assassin glanced in the direction of the captain.

“Vince,” The captain stated quickly, and all three shared a glance. The facade would be broken if care was not taken this second. The crowd eyed the uppity crew member for a moment.

“Yeah.” vince began rather indignantly. “When are we heading out! Is mittens over there really that slow that you have to explain the route eight times?”

Joseph piped in, standing as the captain closed the door. The assassin removed his hat, setting it on the desk before him.

“Ah, Mr. Vincent, as much as I’d like to have you thrown overboard for your indolent and indecent behavior, I must ask why ever you are interrupting us?”

The giant furrowed an eyebrow, turning in a chair that was too small for him. He stood a full inch over Joseph, even though he was sitting down.

I got faith in you Vince, but I’d rather not make the guy angry.

“I’m just wondering why we’re not halfway to Ettermire by now! You’re not the only person with places to be snooty, I have some sweet elven ladies to meet up with, if you catch my drift. ”

Joseph mustered up some disgust, and painted his face with it lightly, his lips turning upward into a little sneer for a moment.

“I’m sure they’ll get along just fine without you, as long as someone has the coin, hm?” He turned, motioning at the door. “Captain. Will you please get him out of my sight?”

[redford]

“But do they have the goods?” Vincent gestured to his groin and made several thrusting motions before the captain could get a word in edgewise. “It’s all about size…” he turned an eye over the large gentleman before him. “I bet mittens here agrees with me.”

John merely snorted a little and turned back to the captain and his employer. Such men as this ‘Vince’ were common on ships. The sea apparently drew the most vulgar and uneducated sort of men. The captain responded to Vince’s outburst with a string of curses as he advanced upon the ragged sailor.

“So help me Vince if you don’t get this boat movin’ right now I’ll keel haul your ass and use your carcass for birdfeed!” Vince recoiled, a massive grin painted across his face as he turned tail, the captain shouting at him all the way out onto the deck.

“I’ll use your bones as my anchor, Vince, I swear on the Thayne! You! Get up and unfurl that sail! Move, people! I don’t have all day to scream at y’all!”

The captain’s barking faded as Joseph closed the door. He retreated back behind his desk, and rubbed his palms together. He spoke as confidently as nobility was able.

“Now that we have some privacy, gentlemen, let’s talk business.”

[Cards of Fate]

“FOR THE LAST TIME VINCE!” The captain's voice howled, “NO DICE ON MY SHIP! I’VE SAID IT ONCE, I’VE SAID IT TWICE!” The captain’s spit flew from his mouth as he bellowed, landing in his gnarled beard. In his hand he held a fistful of dice, pilfered from the perverse troublemaker. “I RUN A TIGHT SHIP HERE, AND I HAVE HAFFA MIND TO GUT YOU AND FEED YE TO THE FISH! DON’T TEST ME BOY!”

Vincent Cain simply shrugged and blew off the captain’s shouting. Ten days at sea had taken it’s toll on the captain’s patience, and Vincent’s shenanigans were getting on his last nerve. The scholar had been searching for ways to cause all sorts of trouble, telling raunchy stories, and other stereotypical behavior to pass the time. Three more days and they would be in Beinost offloading goods.

The sun shone brightly overhead in a cloudless sky, casting a burning glow over the entire deck. Most of the crew members had retreated to the shade, awaiting orders. The horizon seemed to blend in where the sky and water met. On one end of the boat, John was keeping himself busy by helping several crew members move the ships guns about. Much to the amazement of the entire crew, John could lift even their largest canons by himself, and was putting the entire crew to shame, all the while never removing his gauntlets.

The shining spectacle of the iron giant had held Vincent’s interest for the entire trip. Whenever he could, he was chatting or heckling the man. John, however, was a man of few words and rarely gave the vulgar sailor a response. The other potential recruits had turned out to be unremarkable, and bided their time gawking at the half-giant while sitting in the shade. Most had done only what was required of them so they could have their ration.

After taking his lumps from the captain, Vincent had decided he was going to find a new source of entertainment other than idle games. Carefully he approached the giant on his blind side as he held one of the ship’s smaller cannons like a farmer holds a baby cow. Without ceremony the scholar jabbed his fingers into the man’s ribs.

“OI MITTENS.” the words left his lips in a grunt. “YER PRETTY FUCKING STRONG AINT YE?.” John responded by slamming the cannon onto the deck, doubtlessly frightening all below decks.

“Yes, Vince, what of it?” he stated wearily, turning to look down at him, appearing to tire of his hijinks. The scholar simply donned an impish grin as he gestured to a loose barrel nearby.

“Betcha I could win in an arm wrestle,” he cooed flexing a bit.

The half-giant’s eyebrow arched upwards quickly, then his eyes narrowed. “You know what? Fine. You can have your arm wrestle; but if I win, you leave me be.” Vincent cackled maniacally, rubbing his hands together.

“But if I win, you hafta get “MITTENS” tattooed on your forehead!” A crowd had begun to form at this point, partly from sailors summoned to the deck from below by the commotion, and others were already descending the rigging. Even the captain seemed to turn a blind eye, likely knowing that events such as these relieved a crew of their stress.
John stomped toward the barrel and knelt in front of it, placing a massive forearm on the top. Vince followed suit, clenching the giant’s gauntlet-clad hand in his, his hand seeming to disappear inside a massive fist. Even the angles of their arms were odd.

“Aint gonna remove the bling boyo?” Vince asked cocking his head to one side.

His adversary snorted. “Can’t. We gonna start?”

The crowd, who up until now had been heckling, betting, and generally laughing at Vince, were silenced at the presence of the Captain. He spoke, eyeing the both of them.

“Now, I normally don’t condone such acts, but bein’ as ye’ve all been needing a moment’s respite, I’ll allow this non sense.” He cracked an evil grin that barely showed through his beard. “Also, WINNER GETS AN EXTRA RATION! GO!”

Vince began to push up against the giant’s arm, grunting slightly as John followed suit. To the crowds suprise, both men met at a stalemate for a moment. The two men sat locked in place, their muscles rippling as they tensed. Vincent could feel magic coursing through the gauntlet in his hand, strange and almost foreign. Realizing he might be blowing his cover, and revealing his true strength, he began to yield slightly, allowing the giant to push his arm close to the edge.

A cry was heard from the nest high above. “BLACK SAILS! BLACK SAILS!” The crew instantly scattered as the captain snapped into action, barking orders.

“All hands, get those cannons out! Get me some chain-shot and bring up the powder kegs, boys! To Starboard! Bring us about to face them! They don’t call her the witch of the seas for nothing, lads, let’s giv’em what the Irillien’s got!”

The crew cried out in unison, and all went about their duties, preparing guns and sails for battle. No one seemed to noticed as Vince flexed with his full strength and sent John’s hand smashing against the barrel, cracking the lid. The scholar’s eyes shot to Joseph, who had emerged from hiding armed to the teeth.

“Jo, my blade! We have time for charades later!”

[redford]

Joseph, having emerged from the cabin to see what the arm wrestle was about, darted back inside and emerged with both their swords and his own daggers. He tossed the sword to Vincent, which he caught deftly and spun out of its sheath. He turned to the Captain.

“How long until we are upon them?”

The captain called down, turning the ship’s wheel once more. “T’won’t be long now, the Irillien’s a fast one, and so is she,” he finished, pointing a finger toward the quickly-advancing black ship.

Who knew we would even be out here? We haven’t even made….. Joseph’s thoughts were interrupted by a revelation. He called out quickly to Vincent.

“Vince! Remember those nobles we ripped off to get this haul?”

Vince stopped short of helping load a cannon. “Yeah, what of…. Ooooohhhh.”

As if to punctuate his statement, a cannonball whistled overhead, followed by the roar of a distant crew and the rattle of swords. The captain abandoned his post to another sailor and barked more orders.

“Bring us alongside, men! Hold fast to stations and prepare to fire!”

A moment of eerie silence followed that almost frightened Joseph. Anticipation hung in the air and the only sound in the world for a split second was the wind through the sails and the rushing water beneath.

“FIRE!”

Cannonfire boomed in Joseph’s ears as a group of assailants swung on ropes in their direction. They landed, spying him as a soft target. Joseph smirked, drawing a dagger as the pirate advanced, running at him with sword held high.

Just as he was about to dodge, however, a massive form collided with the pirate’s blind side, sending him careening sideways and over the edge of the boat. Joseph looked up, already knowing it to be John. He turned his back to Joseph and spoke.

“Behind me.”

[redford]

John glanced to the side, ensuring the pirate lay motionless before scanning the ship, which was quickly being overrun with pirates. His practiced mind scanned their battlefield and tried to find a tactic that evened their odds.

We're outnumbered, he thought as he directed Joseph. It was his job to protect the noble, but if he didn't join the counterattack they would all be dead anyway.

"Joseph, get belowdecks, I'll ke-" His words were cut short by a trio of soldiers who burst from the deck fighting, their screams punctuated by another volley of the thunderous cannons below them. John prepared to strike, but Joseph stepped from behind him, deftly blocking his sword with a dagger and ducking under a second, using his off hand to pull a dagger from his thigh to slit the throat of the third man who trailed behind the other two. John joined the fray, kicking the knee of the first man, now off balance. His leg snapped, bending backward and screams of pain replaced those of battle. He turned, seeing Joseph pull a kerchief from his suit jacket, wiping the blood from his blades as the last man dropped. He smiled up at John, obviously quite pleased with his performance.

"I can take care of myself, my good man. What say we teach these pirates a lesson, eh?"

John's eyebrows raised. Though quite surprised, he knew this was not the time to be questioning what was going on on this gods-forsaken ship, and turned to join the fray as rusty iron hooks sprouted from the enemy ship, latching on to the Irillien. John thought of a terrible plan. But if it worked, an excellent one.

It just has to work, the half-giant thought as their ships drew closer, now barely two feet away from each other. A knife sprouted from his hand, and he sprinted toward the enemy ship, leaping across the water on the enemy vessel. The enemy ship, while formidable, appeared to be in disrepair, with frayed ropes and rotted deckboards here and there.

But he wasn't here to muse as to the cloaks and daggers. He was here to protect the ship and its contents, and right now that meant getting this ship away. He began to slash at the ropes holding their ships together, dodging a few sword strikes along the way, and knocking away more than one pirate who stepped up to stop him.

A voice rang out amidst another cannon volley.

"Oi! First to bring me the giant's head eats triple for a week!" The captain shouted, turning the ship's wheel. John smirked a little bit as he thought of another ploy.

This thing won't go anywhere without a wheel now, will it? A quintet of pirates stepped in front of him.

[Cards of Fate]

While Joseph and John had gone to cross the gap, Vince had opted for a bit of defense. Each swing of the scholar’s blade seemed as if it was part of some well-choreographed dance, spilling the blood of pirates without mercy. His unruly blonde hair danced in the wind as he spun about, blocking, parrying, and countering blows with the ease of seasoned soldier. Pistol shot cracked like lightning in this veritable storm of man and steel, causing Vince to have to move erratically to avoid being riddled with cheap musket balls and black powder.

The crew was faring well, no deaths yet as far as Vince could tell. The captain was brawling with five pirates at a time whilst the crew seemed to be involved in some brutal melee. Blood ran across the deck in a deluge, anything from a stray blade cut to a fatal gash freeing the crimson tide. With the mix of sea spray and blood, the deck was begining to grow slick. Every step Vince took was a test of faith, praying that he would not slip and fall, leaving him vulnerable to attack. All he could do was hope that John and Joseph were doing good work on the other side of the battle.

As if to punctuate his thought, Joseph leapt back over the railing as the two ships separated a few more feet, now having no ropes holding them together. John continued to wreak havoc in their ship as Joseph approached, dodging a few blows in the process to unite with him.

“I must say, I am glad we brought him along,” he said as they fought together. Vince nodded in agreement, ducking beneath an errant swing from a sloppy pirate.

“I concur!” Vince shouted back, plunging his blade through his aggressor. “Remind me when this is all said and done to give him a much longer contract!” The scholar chuckled at the absurdity of discussing business in the middle of combat, but the two were nothing if not absurd.

“What should his pay rate be?” Joseph asked as he slit a man’s throat, releasing a torrent of crimson. Vince pondered this for a moment as he pulled his blade free from the earlier man and quickly cut down two more men.

“I think we should have him on some sort of commission pay.” Vince offered, stopping to turn to Joseph. “You know, a small cut of all the goods he delivers safely to incentivise him to achieve,”

Joseph stifled a chuckle amidst disarming a pirate of his unfired pistol, killing another with it. “We should pay him based on his weight,” he said, tossing the pistol aside. “Thayne knows he’s worth three men right there!”

Vince stifled a guffaw as he kicked a man in the chest, sending him careening backwards and over the side of the boat into the blue sea below. “Goodness Joseph, he’d drive us bankrupt within a week with that sort of salary!”

“Well,” Jospeh began, tripping a pirate that was chasing a crewmember. “That all depends on how many people we don’t have to pay instead.”

The cracking of wood sounded from the other ship, and both entrepreneurs turned to see John just as he tore the wheel off the enemy ship, tossing it into the sea.
“I think…” Vince murmured staring in shock, “That I’m going to have to agree with you on that one…”

[redford]

John kicked a man down the stairs and he tumbled into his brethren, bowling them over. This was bad. He’d separated their ships, and thus removed their advantage in numbers, but had trapped himself on the boat with a hundred angry pirates who, at the moment, definitely did not fear his size. He blocked a sword strike and returned in kind as more of the pirates swarmed around him. Pain spiked his leg, and he swiped at it instinctively, bowling over a sailor. A dagger protruded from his leg and he reached down to yank it out as another blade pierced his back and several soldiers jumped upon him. Their captain’s voice boomed.

“Ha! Good work lads, this one worried me that’s for sure.” John looked up to see a shorter man in an old, tattered captain’s suit, complete with hat and coattails. He tried to advance, but the blade in his back twisted, causing him to wince in pain and grind out a curse. The pain, coupled with the six men holding him, bound him in place. The captain turned his gaze to the Irillien. “Now, my boy, you’re going to buy us our freedom.”

He called out across to the Irillien “If you want your giant to remain alive, you’ll offer my ship parlay!”

John thought to himself. Fat chance, pirate.

[redrout]

Vince, across the gap, pondered for a moment. “They’re going to try and ransom him to us…” he mused aloud to Joseph. “And let me tell you something about me Jo, I fucking hate negotiations.”

Joseph turned to the captain, knowing already what he had in mind. He murmured, “Captain, get me every gun on this boat ready to fire, quietly please.”

“A man after my own heart,” Vincent cooed, grinning. “Have the guns ready to fire on my mark, and no sooner or so fucking help me you will all be dead men.”

The captain set about giving orders and not screaming them as they pulled alongside the crippled pirate ship. A moment later and The captain returned, nodding in acknowledgment

“Ahoy!” Vince roared across the small gap. “I hear you’re in possession of my giant?” The entire crew save the captain looked slightly confused as Vincent stepped into a leadership role. “Unfortunately he isn’t for sale, so I’m going to be needing him back in one piece my good man.”

“Well, as long as you’re prepared to offer me and my crew their freedom, I don’t see why I should keep him,” The captain responded, stepping forward.

Joseph stepped forward a step and held himself with the air of a noble, brushing the charcoal from a shoulderpad. “My good man, that giant is definitely worth much more than you and your crew’s freedom.” He smirked evilly.

“But you cannot buy it.”

[Cards of Fate]

With that, Vince enacted his plan. The scholar burst forward as fast as he could, hitting speeds the men barely had time to process as he crossed the gap in a flash of blue light. Strapped to each of his legs were two flintlock pistols, “borrowed” from some deceased pirates. Before the pirate captain could bark an order, he found a bullet in his brain as Vince flew across the deck. The other gun took out one of the six men holding John, covering the man in a bloody mess. The men holding John barely had time to vocalize as they met Vince’s bloodied blade. Within a minute, Vincent had slain seven men.

Grabbing hold of John, the scholar grunted. “You need to go on the fucking atkins diet…” he groaned as he hefted John onto his shoulders. The pirates had begun to move, like a swarm of ants after their hill had just been kicked. Vince took one look at the way back to the ship, clogged by men and steel, and turned tail. “I hope you can fucking swim mittens…” he grunted as he took off, lugging the giant in tow. He got to the edge of the boat, put one boot on the side wall and yelled over his shoulder.

“FIRE.” With that he and John both tumbled into the deep blue as the Irelian did what she did best. Every single cannon unleashed fire and lead point blank into the disabled pirate ship. Somewhere below, the pirate powder kegs caught fire and exploded. The entire ship went up in an instant, raining splinters and fire all around it. Vince and John sank several feet into the water, letting the salter brine fill every orifice. Vincent looked to the surface, the salty water stinging his eyes, and watched for a proper opening.

With John anchoring him down, Vince kicked with all his might and speed and forcibly pulled the giant to the surface, gulping in fresh air as soon as they could. The smell of burning flesh, wood, and powder filled the air, leaving the two to ponder the destruction the had just escaped. John managed to grow a spike from his strange armored hand and plunge it into a piece of debris, anchoring them to the surface for the moment.

Somewhere above, the Captain’s voice could be heard. “Get those guns loaded men! I ain’t waiting to see if she sinks! Get those two up from the drink!”

Another volley sounded overhead and what was left of the ship went quickly into the deep, taking any survivors with it, save Vincent and John. The two treaded water whilst the crew took the ship around the flames and threw ropes below to the two.

“So…” Vince mused as the ship rolled up. “Want a job?”

A rope soon appeared, and several of the larger crew members pulled the two of them up into the Irillien. John’s injuries, while not life threatening, had bled profusely, and he sat on the deck with his back on a cannon as the doctor sewed his leg shut. The half-giant absently reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small wooden box. He opened it, and several floppy, dripping cigars fell out, salty and ruined. He sighed exasperatedly.

“Damn,” he said, leaning his head back. Joseph merely chuckled.

“With what we’ll be paying you friend, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Cards of Fate receives 1000 EXP and 105 GP (includes 20% extra due to Fred's GP enhancement ability)

Redrout receives 485 EXP and 70 GP

Redford receives 705 EXP and 70 GP

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards have been added!