05-23-2018, 05:04 PM
Captain Deudermont stood back to back with Tia Dalma at the base of the ship’s mizzenmast, surrounded on all sides by half a score of jeering pirates. On the quarterdeck below, another half dozen of the marauders dealt with the last survivors of the Sea Sprite’s crew, slashing and stomping the unfortunate sailors with gleeful and unceremonious abandon.
Beaten, battered and cornered, not even Tia Dalma, a mighty Prime, could overcome her fatigue to deal with the sheer number of enemies facing them. The Sea Sprite listed dangerously to the left and sat low in the water, the ocean waves lapping at the railing surrounding the lowest deck.
The attack had been swift, coordinated, and brutal, the first pirate vessel wearing down the Sea Sprite’s crew and thinning their ranks just in time for the second vessel to strike. Captain Deudermont’s men, heroic to a man, had put up a valiant effort attempting to repel the invaders, but in the end were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The sea captain surveyed all he had lost, pain and sorrow evident in his eyes.
The ring of pirates made no move to strike down the two companions. They hemmed and hawed among themselves with much jeering and back-slapping, swords unsheathed but held lazily with the bravado of successful conquerors.
One of the marauders, a fat man clad in rags, his thick arms crisscrossed with scars, paused to look Tia Dalma up and down. He offered the voodoo priestess a lewd wink. “Mayhaps when this all be over we won’t kill ye,” he purred grotesquely. “If yer lucky, ye can be me personal whore!” A chorus of raucous laughter rippled through the gathered marauders, a few slapping the man on the back. The fat pirate, emboldened by his degenerate friends, swiped a hand at Tia Dalma’s rear.
With a flash of steel, Captain Deudermont’s cutlass swept through the air. When the fat pirate recoiled with a howl of pain, two of his fingers did not follow. The marauder clutched his wounded hand, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Now, is that any way to treat a lady?” Deudermont asked with a thin smile.
Three of the pirate’s allies crowded in, relieving the sea captain of his weapon and slamming his face against the mizzenmast. Captain Deudermont, who had seen a hundred and more battles and did not cower in the face of smelly pirates, merely laughed as painful splinters dug into his cheek.
The laughter enraged the fat pirate. The man seemed to forget his injury, unsheathing his sword with his good hand and stepping forward. “Yer gonna pay for that,” he growled.
Deudermont’s laughter continued unabated. “Tell your filthy friends to release me,” he said, “and we shall see who pays whom.”
The fat pirate roughly shoved one of his allies aside, bringing the point of his blade within an inch of Deudermont’s eye. Tia Dalma launched into an incantation, determined to defend the courageous sea captain whatever the consequences. A swift knee from another of the gathered pirates doubled her over and dropped he to her knees with a gasp of pain.
“Enough!” The booming, mellifluous voice rose above the commotion. “Let ‘em go an’ step away, ye scurvy dogs. Ain’t none ‘ere gonna cut down Deudermont ‘cept fer me!”
The crowd parted to reveal an enormous man--perhaps the largest man Tia Dalma and Captain Deudermont had ever seen. Towering more than seven feet tall, he was barrel-chested and thick-limbed, with a black beard so long and bushy it concealed most of his torso and tucked neatly into his belt. A wide-brimmed hat emblazoned with the skull and crossbones insignia of the marauding pirates sat atop his head. Despite the company he kept, a fierce and intelligent hunger lurked in the pirate captain’s eyes.
“Blackbeard,” Deudermont spat, matching the pirate captain’s fearless gaze.
Blackbeard advanced with a hearty chuckle, echoed in short order by his ragged crew. Contrary to the dirty rags worn by the other pirates, he wore fine cloth trousers and a wide-sleeved white shirt, a red vest with gold buttons clasped over his bulging stomach. A gold and jewel encrusted scabbard hung from his belt.
“Why if it ain’t Cap’n Deudermont,” Blackbeard boomed. “‘Tis a shame we’re meetin’ unner such circumstances.” The burly pirate captain gestured at the corpses of Deudermont’s crew, even then being heaped into a pile, to be burned along with the fallen Sea Sprite.
“I did not see your sword bloodied in the fighting,” Deudermont said. “The only shame I see is your own cowardice, coming to face me only now that the battle has ended.”
Blackbeard scowled. “Ye callin’ me a coward, Deudermont, but by reckonin’ ‘tis ye who’s the coward. Fer too long ye be preyin’ on me ships, strikin’ down the weakest among us and fleein’ afore we can catch ye. Well, today ‘tis Blackbeard sailin’ off into the sunset, while Cap’n Deudermont’s corpse bloodies the waters!”
The pirates howled with glee at their captain’s proclamation, but Deudermont only smiled. “Come then,” the sea captain said, brandishing his cutlass. “Let our swords meet, such that the sharks might feast well on your swollen belly this night.”
Blackbeard took the bait. The pirate captain roared and drew his enormous scimitar, shoving any pirates aside who were unfortunate enough to get in his way. As the scimitar rose, glinting in the dying sunlight and poised to deal brave Captain Deudermont a fatal blow, so too rose Tia Dalma.
The voodoo priestess, her whispered incantations unnoticed during Deudermont and Blackbeard’s too-loud exchange of bravado, unleashed her spell with a palpable aura of power. The sea itself came to the beleaguered Prime’s aid, a monstrous pillar of water rising vertically from the turgid depths like the clenched fist of an angry god. The water roiled and churned with an audible roar as it arced over their heads and crashed down, swallowing up Blackbeard and his unfortunate crew.
The sheer force of the pillar of water smashed the deck into kindling, flinging pirates aside and carrying others down into the lower decks. The Sea Sprite lurched beneath the onslaught, sinking deeper into the water. In the midst of it all, Tia Dalma and Captain Deudermont watched from behind a protective wall of gusting wind.
Beaten, battered and cornered, not even Tia Dalma, a mighty Prime, could overcome her fatigue to deal with the sheer number of enemies facing them. The Sea Sprite listed dangerously to the left and sat low in the water, the ocean waves lapping at the railing surrounding the lowest deck.
The attack had been swift, coordinated, and brutal, the first pirate vessel wearing down the Sea Sprite’s crew and thinning their ranks just in time for the second vessel to strike. Captain Deudermont’s men, heroic to a man, had put up a valiant effort attempting to repel the invaders, but in the end were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The sea captain surveyed all he had lost, pain and sorrow evident in his eyes.
The ring of pirates made no move to strike down the two companions. They hemmed and hawed among themselves with much jeering and back-slapping, swords unsheathed but held lazily with the bravado of successful conquerors.
One of the marauders, a fat man clad in rags, his thick arms crisscrossed with scars, paused to look Tia Dalma up and down. He offered the voodoo priestess a lewd wink. “Mayhaps when this all be over we won’t kill ye,” he purred grotesquely. “If yer lucky, ye can be me personal whore!” A chorus of raucous laughter rippled through the gathered marauders, a few slapping the man on the back. The fat pirate, emboldened by his degenerate friends, swiped a hand at Tia Dalma’s rear.
With a flash of steel, Captain Deudermont’s cutlass swept through the air. When the fat pirate recoiled with a howl of pain, two of his fingers did not follow. The marauder clutched his wounded hand, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Now, is that any way to treat a lady?” Deudermont asked with a thin smile.
Three of the pirate’s allies crowded in, relieving the sea captain of his weapon and slamming his face against the mizzenmast. Captain Deudermont, who had seen a hundred and more battles and did not cower in the face of smelly pirates, merely laughed as painful splinters dug into his cheek.
The laughter enraged the fat pirate. The man seemed to forget his injury, unsheathing his sword with his good hand and stepping forward. “Yer gonna pay for that,” he growled.
Deudermont’s laughter continued unabated. “Tell your filthy friends to release me,” he said, “and we shall see who pays whom.”
The fat pirate roughly shoved one of his allies aside, bringing the point of his blade within an inch of Deudermont’s eye. Tia Dalma launched into an incantation, determined to defend the courageous sea captain whatever the consequences. A swift knee from another of the gathered pirates doubled her over and dropped he to her knees with a gasp of pain.
“Enough!” The booming, mellifluous voice rose above the commotion. “Let ‘em go an’ step away, ye scurvy dogs. Ain’t none ‘ere gonna cut down Deudermont ‘cept fer me!”
The crowd parted to reveal an enormous man--perhaps the largest man Tia Dalma and Captain Deudermont had ever seen. Towering more than seven feet tall, he was barrel-chested and thick-limbed, with a black beard so long and bushy it concealed most of his torso and tucked neatly into his belt. A wide-brimmed hat emblazoned with the skull and crossbones insignia of the marauding pirates sat atop his head. Despite the company he kept, a fierce and intelligent hunger lurked in the pirate captain’s eyes.
“Blackbeard,” Deudermont spat, matching the pirate captain’s fearless gaze.
Blackbeard advanced with a hearty chuckle, echoed in short order by his ragged crew. Contrary to the dirty rags worn by the other pirates, he wore fine cloth trousers and a wide-sleeved white shirt, a red vest with gold buttons clasped over his bulging stomach. A gold and jewel encrusted scabbard hung from his belt.
“Why if it ain’t Cap’n Deudermont,” Blackbeard boomed. “‘Tis a shame we’re meetin’ unner such circumstances.” The burly pirate captain gestured at the corpses of Deudermont’s crew, even then being heaped into a pile, to be burned along with the fallen Sea Sprite.
“I did not see your sword bloodied in the fighting,” Deudermont said. “The only shame I see is your own cowardice, coming to face me only now that the battle has ended.”
Blackbeard scowled. “Ye callin’ me a coward, Deudermont, but by reckonin’ ‘tis ye who’s the coward. Fer too long ye be preyin’ on me ships, strikin’ down the weakest among us and fleein’ afore we can catch ye. Well, today ‘tis Blackbeard sailin’ off into the sunset, while Cap’n Deudermont’s corpse bloodies the waters!”
The pirates howled with glee at their captain’s proclamation, but Deudermont only smiled. “Come then,” the sea captain said, brandishing his cutlass. “Let our swords meet, such that the sharks might feast well on your swollen belly this night.”
Blackbeard took the bait. The pirate captain roared and drew his enormous scimitar, shoving any pirates aside who were unfortunate enough to get in his way. As the scimitar rose, glinting in the dying sunlight and poised to deal brave Captain Deudermont a fatal blow, so too rose Tia Dalma.
The voodoo priestess, her whispered incantations unnoticed during Deudermont and Blackbeard’s too-loud exchange of bravado, unleashed her spell with a palpable aura of power. The sea itself came to the beleaguered Prime’s aid, a monstrous pillar of water rising vertically from the turgid depths like the clenched fist of an angry god. The water roiled and churned with an audible roar as it arced over their heads and crashed down, swallowing up Blackbeard and his unfortunate crew.
The sheer force of the pillar of water smashed the deck into kindling, flinging pirates aside and carrying others down into the lower decks. The Sea Sprite lurched beneath the onslaught, sinking deeper into the water. In the midst of it all, Tia Dalma and Captain Deudermont watched from behind a protective wall of gusting wind.
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