Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part II: Preparation Troubles

[Tyvaris]

A crimson hue blanketed the wharf hazing the formidable bulk of the privateer vessel Indomitable.   In the ship's long shadow Lark assembled his small band behind a stack of freight.   

"Alright here's the plan." Lark began to whisper. "The crew including Tellos is off at the Quandary celebrating the capture of that pirate vessel over there."  He pointed to a floundering ship attached to an adjacent jetty.
"There'll be only a handful of sentries and probably those not so happy to be left behind from the party.  I have a plan to deal with them."


Lark placed a large bicorn hat upon his head with a peacock feather plume of which eschewed the appearance of a sultan more than an aero captain. 

"Alright flyboy,  and you lady flier ready your arms but keep them hidden; you're going to follow me casually.  As for you elve, stay here and keep a look out.   If you hear shooting you'll know we need you.  You can probably hear and see better than all of us, so keep a good watch.   If any of Tellos' men come back don't try to stall them unless you can tell something bad is happening on board."

"Alright you guys ready?  Come with me Dart and Linden."  Lark stood and adjusted his Jacket trying to adjust his buttons to close his double breasted jacket.   The flap fell open miserably again.  He adjusted the bicorn again only to have the feather fall out.  He replaced it in it's perch and began to strutt to the deck.

[Kitharsis]

Darterity grins.  He wasn't expecting signing up for this but it is right up his alley nonetheless.  He adjusts the belt at his hips and takes stock of his weapons.

Scimitar, check.

Pistol, check.

Slinghot, check.

His roundshield is strapped to his back, ready to be attached to the reinforced glove on his right hand at the first sign of trouble. 

He reaches down and clicks his glove into place.  The reinforcements latch together.  Hopefully they won't be cracking heads, but if it comes to it he'll be ready.

"Ready as ever, Cap'n!"

With another grin he adjusts his hat and follows after Lark, mimicing the captains strut.

[Tamrissa]

"Again, I'll bring it back to saying that im honest and let you know that before we can proceed on this mission we have a hurdle we must overcome.  In doing so it will require some creativity and a little foray outside of the realm of legality.  If you catch my drift."

Linden began to cringe as she listened.  At least her intuition hadn't led her astray.  With so many hints at being somewhat shady, there had hardly been any question of the coming comments from Lark.  Yet, they had offered her the job with no question of her abilities or past...

"The Gale, is missing some key components in order to maintain its defenses to complete the mission we have placed before us.   We are missing cylinder gun rounds of a particular make that are extremely rare.  Well to be honest they originate from only one location.  The privateer vessel the HS Indomitable to be exact. "

Her breath came out in a stifled sigh and she worried at her thumbnail with her front teeth as her eyes left Lark's face. Smoke wavered lazily from the end of her cigarette which was held by the same hand her anxious movements were occupied with.  Suddenly the smoke dispersed wildly as she placed the rolled tobacco between her lips and sucked in a quiet puff. 

Shaking her head abruptly, she outed the remainder of her cigarette against the heel of her boot and exhaled a stream of smoke towards the door, more in habit than consideration.  She tucked the remnant of the cigarette behind her ear as her gaze returned to the captain.  Her face was scrunched with scrutiny as she eyed him.

"We need both shot and shell from the Indomitable and you see if we don't get it we'll be flying to our destination without any firepower.  A great beacon for any blood thirsty sky pirates or any other scum."

The name was familiar, though never a vessel she'd served, and she couldn't help but have some aversion to the idea of crossing such men.  Again she thought of the ease of becoming part of the crew and the decree, which seemed authentic.  Even with her hard luck of late, she was prone to a fond hope.  It didn't take much longer for her to decide she would allow this danger for the greater good of the mission.  An aero needed more defense than two sparrows after all...

---------------------------------------------

The wharf was a fitting scene for what they were about to do.  Linden briefly glanced towards the direction of Lee's shop, feeling guilty and homesick already.  She rubbed her left jawline against her shrugged shoulder in an anxious movement and turned her eyes back to Lark, who had begun to tell them of his plan. 

She gently pulled her cutlass and kept it to her side, the point nearing the ground.  As she moved to follow them, it was nearly lost in the folds of her long coat.  Her mind brushed over the flintlock at her thigh too, but she hoped there would be no need for it.

How long had it been since she'd handled the sword other than to scare of a few muggers who'd thought her to be inept?  Her hand began to sweat against the pommel and she tucked her arm tighter to her side, making her walk a bit more stiff.  She looked severely less sure of herself out of the three.  In spite of her lack of confidence, she kept stride with the two men and a grip on her weapon.

[Tyvaris]

Lark hobbled up the wharf to his starboard side floated the Indomitable.  Quickly scanning the gun deck he noticed it was all vacant and no lamps were lit.  For a moment he thought maybe this was a bad idea, but stiffened his resolve and pushed his maimed leg forward one step at a time.   

The privateer was lined with layered rows of brass cannons fitted with cork tompions.  Lark walked parallel to the gun decks on the wharf marveling at the firepower.   Thick twined rope held the ship fast in the slow moving current of the deep river water.   A gangplank eventually came within sight and surprisingly no watch was set at the bottom.   Lark peered over his shoulder at his two trailing companions and nodded over it as he ascended the gangplank.

The gangplank was constructed of running boards on a suspended rope bridge and heaved heavily with each step.  It was also narrow which would force the group to board single file.    Before Lark could get half way up, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sound of movement on the deck.

"Hooo, who approaches.  Make ye'selves known?", hailed a voice from the deck.  Most definitely a master of the watch or a sentry.

"His lordship Dunbar Mckee of the Office of Acquisitions.  By the decree of the lord's house I must be granted to board to conduct an inspection of arms."  Lark stated in a matter of fact voice with all the necessary pomp and circumstance afforded of someone in such offices.

"Uh, hold fast." The voice called from the deck where a shadowed silhouette appeared out of the gloom.   The silhouette appeared be holding a conversation with others out of sight on deck before eventually returning to the gangplank.

"Low away, proceed to the deck, sir." The silhouette produced an iron lantern which illuminated the gangplank and the three as they ascended.

Lark stepped on the deck and was greeted with the presence of ten deckhands.  Lark shuffled on his maimed leg glad the darkness hid the startled look on his face.  The deckhands were scattered about the deck, many appeared to of just roused from slumber; possibly believing the newcomers to be their stern captain who would no doubt punish them for there sleeping on duty.

"Where's the Cap'n my dear fellow?" Lark said commandingly.

"Ee'z off.  Wats a meaning of all dis?  Who are ye? And by what decree? The leader proclaimed stepping forward of the pack surely the master of the watch.

"My name you scally-wag is Lord Dunbar Mckee and you shall address me as such."  Lark retorted with a look of a martinet instilling discipline.   "Certainly all that sea water must be getting to your ear drums my dear fellow.   I am here by the Lord's house decree; how many times must I repeat myself you daft fool." Lark began to tap his toe scolding the master at watch.

The master at watch was taken aback not sure whether to toss this old codger overboard or allow him entry.  "Me names Phinias and being as I's in charge ere you better watch your step. Ya see ee'z lordship, mayhaps ya have some kind of proof of dis ere inspection.  What gives ye the right to come aboard and make de'mans."


"This." Lark pulled into his breasted jacket and brandished  the sealed decree.  "This states after a prize vessel has been captured the capturing vessel must be inspected for illegal arms.   To ensure no equipment was illegally acquired without the consent of the House of Acquisitions.  I am to search your holds and powder magazine at once and if such items are deemed illegal are to be seized at once.  Failure to comply promptly will result in the blacklisting of the ship from all Mistvaldic ports." Lark gasped for air as he rambled out as fast as he could trying not to show that he had already placed the decree back into his breast pocket and was already making his way toward the hold.


A pistol shot fired off into the night the surely anyone in docks would of heard. "Wait jus a min'at." Phinias demanded as the smoke from his freshly fired pistol wafted around his sinisterly bearded face.   He snickered and said, "Ur not goin any were without me.  I dun trust this one bit."

"Surely,  lead on dear fellow but as I said before delay not further or fines and levies will be made at once on this ship."  Lark said as he gestured in a waving motion for Phinias to proceed below deck.

Once Phinias passed Lark gestured for his two companions to follow.  Hoping that Serassey wouldn't come running at the gunshot which had just rang out.

When the two were near he whispered to them both. "That shot may of woke the whole dock lets try to dupe this fool and be off before Tellos returns. Hopefully that Elve is wise enough to know were ok."







 

[john greymore]

Bang.

That was the signal! Serassey strains his ears, keeping out for any signs of a struggle on board...

Nothing. Silence.

What was he to do? He was supposed to keep a good look out, and not try to step anyone. There were three of them, off against 'a few men', lark had said something to that effect.

Finally, he decided he could not stay here any longer. There just was not enough information to make a choice. He needed a closer look, to inch by a little more. But as he scans his surroundings, he realises there doesn't seem to be anything present. A peek up the wooden thingy, what the humans call a gangplank, would be suicidal.

Wrecked with uncertainty, part of him rendered guilty, Serassey stands his ground, his muscles more tense than they were just a few moments ago.

[Tamrissa]

Linden allowed the two men to step onto the gangplank first and gave a backwards glance towards where they'd come from.  When she was sure there was no movement, she followed them.  She closed her eyes briefly as the sound of a voice calling down sent a burst of adrenaline through her chest.  The sensation cleared her mind a bit and she opened her eyes to quietly sheath her sword.  It would do no good to make this watcher suspicious of their intent and there would be no surprising them now.

She eyed the ten as they stepped aboard and then turned her head slowly to look at Lark.  Was he considering their odds as keenly as she was?  Their luck depended on his quick wit.  As he spoke to their leader, her gaze returned to the crew.  Her composure remained calm as she contemplated her first movements should a fight break out.  She quickly picked out an ideal place to defend from.

Her hand went for her sword as the shot fired.  It stayed on the pommel as she inspected both Lark and Darterity to verify neither had been shot.  Both appeared whole, so her hand fell hesitantly away from her weapon.  She nodded at Lark as he summoned them and stepped up to take her place behind him as Phinias led them into the hold. 

As he whispered, she leaned in as much as she could without her movement becoming obvious.  A determined set of her jaw answered his plan, but she hardly knew what part she would play...

[Kitharsis]

Ten of them, and mostly sleepy.  They wouldn't be too hard to charm into a dull sense of acceptance.  Lark was decreeing and giving speeches like some official.  His tone was definitely arousing the deckhand's senses and pulling them even further out of their pillows.

Darterity's had never left his scimitar hilt.  He nearly yanked it out of its sheath at the gunshot, but his resolve stopped him from doing so.  If the lout felt like wasting bullets that was his own deal.  Waking the entire dock district, like Lark was whispering, was not the most favorable for the three of them...

For the time being Darterity was silent.  He was looking for an angle to con these fellas with if Lark's decree doesn't have quite enough pull.  It is times like these that Dart wishes he had paid more attention to those that tried to teach him swordplay.

[Tyvaris]

The descent below decks on crumbling wooden planks was quite slow and Lark was hoping to dupe the fools and be off as soon as possible.   

"Where's the magazine my dear fellow?" Lark asked not all together familiar with the layout of a man-o-war.

"Tis aft of the gun duck. Surely someone who..." Phinias cut himself off as he followed behind the three intruding inspectors.

"Precisely, it's been a while since I've had my sea legs dear fellow." Lark stated trying to draw attention away from the fact that any inspector would have inspected many ships all of which would have been cut in the same Mistvaldic design.

Phinias followed the group down the planked steps into the ship's gun deck.   The lower gun deck was much the same as the foredeck featuring rows of bronze pieces all set at rest corked.  Lark led forward with his lamp. The gun deck was dark and Lark illuminated the path to the heavy wooden door toward the rear of the ship. Phinias and four other deck hands followed Lark and his companions: the remaining crew stayed above deck keeping watch. 

Lark noted mentally that Phinias seemed to be clenching his fist very tightly and was being overly scrutinizing of Lark and his companions.  Lark noted that it seemed Phinias was armed only with his pistol which he had failed to reload while descending into the gun deck.  The four other crewmen had only various swords and cutlasses and no side arms.   


Lark began to approach the darker section of the gun deck where the magazine was located but before he could reach it he was halted by the raspy voice of Phinias.
"Hold fast.  Are ye daft?  Taking a lantern into a powder keg?" Phinias scolded Lark.   Lark looked to his companions and gave a discreet nod as he turned to Phinias.   "Blow out the lantern m'lord or we'll all be blown out."

Lark nodded to Phinias turn his back from his followers towards the powder keg’s heavy wooden doors and blew out the lantern.   As swift as lighting in the brief absence of light Lark who had already unsheathed a hidden dirk from his jacket rammed it into the throat of Phinias.  Phinias stared Lark in the face with a stark look of surprise and indescribable horror.  Lark ripped a hidden hatchet from beneath his coat and pushed the still spellbound Phinias to the ground. Phinias fell gasping at his spurting neck his mouth opening and closing like a beached fish gasping for air instead drowning on his own blood.   

Lark knew the next few moments would decide if they would leave the ship alive or dead.  The remaining four crewmen who now were paralyzed by shock at witnessing the coldblooded death of Phinias would need to be dispatched quickly otherwise Lark and his companions would be cornered on the gun deck and killed.   Lark approached the closest man hoping Linden and Darterity would strike fast without allowing the startled men to scream for assistance.

[Tamrissa]

Linden was nearly as stunned as the four crewmen, the whites of her eyes showing in the dim light of the gun deck.  She quickly recovered, knowing the Lark's wicked plan and that they'd be dead if she didn't act.  It seemed just in time as her first target shook himself from his horror and stared numbly at her approach. 

Her foot kicked out to dislodge his weapon from his hand before he could raise it against her.  She gritted her teeth and swung at his neck, following the same logic as Lark.  A man without breath could not call out. 

Without waiting to see if her sword had been effective, she spun to her right.  Her longcoat swung around her legs heavily as she stepped behind another of the crewman.  She was on her toes as she reached up to grab his head from behind him.  Her gloved free hand grasped desperately at his jaw and her sword arm was around his neck, hopefully before he could take hold of her.  With a great deal of difficulty, she made to bring the blade across his neck.  She squeezed her arms tightly around him and was nearly hanging from his back as she sliced the blade across and down.

She gritted her teeth in a silent snarl, her chin pressed roughly to the man's shoulder, waiting for him to drop.  As soon as he did, she would be on her feet again and moving to help Lark and Darterity. 

[Tyvaris]

Blood began to pool on the gun deck as Phinias and the two crewmen dispatched by Linden settled to the floor with crimson froth pouring from their throats.   Two crewmen now remained and were now regaining their composure from the sudden murderous onslaught.  The nearest to Lark pulled his cutlass from its scabbard and raised it in the stance of the desert dwelling nomads of the southern sea.   As Lark approached the man grimaced and swung his blade down sharply in a high ark meaning to cut Lark in half.  Lark at the last second feinted his approach and sidestepped the lethal blow.  The swing caused the crewmen to stumble forward with the blow.   With the crewmen's back now exposed Lark hacked quickly with his rigging hatchet down on the man’s now exposed nape.   With a wet snap which sounded much like two children snapping a fresh wishbone from a feast turkey the hatchet imbedded in the spinal cord.  The body went limp and fell with a wet thump to the deck.   

Lark turned to Darterity beginning to question if the youth had the stomach for the cold blooded killing that was necessary to be a member of his crew.   Lark knew when he saw Linden that she had nothing to lose and everything to gain from a mission and would do anything necessary to survive, but Darterity had seemed at first glance to be too graceful and merciful when an iron hand was needed.  Could he deal death when his fellow companion’s lives were on the line. This was the test that Lark needed to gauge the young half elve.  Could he stomach battle and kill when necessary? 

[Kitharsis]

The light from Lark's lantern blows out in a snap, leaving the group in darkness.  The sound of metal entering a man's flesh squishes out from Phinias, revealing Lark's dark intentions for the unfortunate crewmen around them.

Linden quickly follows suit and nearly decapitates another crew member.  Darterity's hand shakes on his scimitar as he backs away from the spraying blood.  He had just cleaned his armor, and bloodstains were terrible to wash out.

The woman quickly grabs another crewman and slices his neck just as efficiently.  This time the spray of blood arcs down Darterity's chest, and he lets out a curse in reply.

"Bloody Hell..." He grumbles as he turns to see one of the crewmen lunging towards him in the dark.  Darterity's enhanced eyesight gave away the man's actions before he can strike.  A slight step to the side dodges the blow, and a quick jab to the temple with his reinforced right arm dazes the man. 

Behind him Lark plunges his hatchet into another crewmember's nape.  Darterity feels a few droplets of blood splash onto his back.

With a scowl and a glint of steel Darterity produces a dagger from somewhere in his armor.  The dazed crewmember before him blinks away some of the haze clouding his eyes before the dagger comes charging towards his chest.  Darterity rips it away in an upwards fashion, producing a splatter of blood that elegantly misses hitting his leather.

Regardless of his pirating background, he still has a distaste for close quarters combat.

"So messy."  He sighs with a wrinkled nose.

[Cameron]

Misthaven is now officially RETIRED until the Battle Master can be contacted and gives further instructions. It may be resumed at a later date by the Battle Master if he so chooses and gains administrative approval.