Solo Thrice-Lucky

[Avalyon Marem]

513 AV, Summer, 53th
A small, decadent rowboat through Baroque Bay, noon

“Dammit One-eyed! Ye should’ve been more cautious! How’d ye drink the wits out of ya close to Sunberth?!”

Fool Joey looked at him with reproving eyes as he rowed the five other sailors through Baroque Bay. They moved silently, with only a splash or two as the rows slid forth and back into the water. It was Fool Joey’s turn, after Lullaby Crooked Tooth’s and Blondie. Truth be told, Joey was no fool, but he had those big, fat lips which gave him a stupid look whenever he opened his mouth. Beside him, Blondie kept looking behind, making sure there was no one after them. Far across the bay, it was possible to see the silhouette of a ship, looking so tiny from the distance. Yet, that damned thing had truly damned them.

It took one minute or so for those words to sink in him until Avalyon understood its meanings. He was still recovering from all the booze. “Four thousand mizas, Joey. Four thousand.” He muttered it to himself, barely audible for the others, but he could sense their disappointment. It was meant to be the best deal they had ever made and it was easy: bring some rare stuff from Sunberth to Zeltiva, get the payment and return… so indeed, as he saw the approaching bay, he set to celebrate with some booze in his cabin. How could he know they would be attacked moments before they crossed the entrance? As captain of the Laviku’s Bastard, he had few privileges – a private cabin, respect and absolute command during battles. But that ended there. His authority was limited and he had become captain only because his crew chose so.

“You were drunk, how could you command the ship? There we were, trying to turn left and encircle the bitch but no, you told damned sailing master to keep heading on full speed, thinking you could sunk it with a well-placed ram through the prow! Your words, not mine! Imbecile!” Avalyon looked at old Fool Joey and started grinding his teeth. He almost hit the sod on the temple, but instead managed to keep his temper. Afterall, the man had the truth of it. Avalyon had failed and he was lucky to be alive, having been rescued by Blondie on the sea after a bombard exploded the quarterdeck and he fell, with three other mates.

“Heh, now that I think about it, it’s the third time I survive a disaster at the sea. Thrice-Lucky Avalyon, how does that ring?” None of the crew laughed, nonetheless he kept speaking, now with a serious tone, as his wits were returning. “It was my fault, and apologizing for it won’t do damn good thing, it seems. We’ve been together for over fifteen years, Lullaby. Joey, we’ve been for a decade. And even the newest, Blondie, has been for three years. Ye know me as I know ye all. Think I mistepped this time, well, well.” He shook his head in such a sad manner, and rubbed his hands together. “Whose work was this?”

“Passion’s, that sod Marks boy. Sebastian, his name. I read “The Mistress” on the hull of the brigantine as a stone ball came just a few meters away from my head.” It was Blondie’s soft voice this time. The boy was almost twenty, with a long, messed up golden hair. Lullaby had found him in a whorehouse, being groomed to become some rich folk’s little pet and brought him into the crew. Just some hours ago, they had been almost fifty, now only six remained. "What are we going to do now?” The boy was a bit lost, after all he had lost all his reference of a life when Laviku’s Bastard sails started to swirl in flames.

For two minutes no one spoke, each one waiting for the other to answer to that difficult question. Sometimes, there are things best left unanswered. Nonetheless, he was their damn captain, so Avalyon had to answer. “I’ll stay out of the sea for a while. Need to make some money first, I won’t come back on another man’s ship. I was captain. Think I’ll stick to whoever pays. Sunberth’s full of slavers, merchants, one or two crimelords. Bounties here, there and everywhere. Gotta nothing to lose, life’s not worthy a miza. Then, I’ll get Mark’s head. But before, I’ll break each of his toes. I’ll cut his tongue, geld his manhood. No, I won’t get his head. But I’ll let him cockless in the world. Think that would be a worthy punishment for our womanizer, right?” He would hardly achieve any of this without a ship and a crew, but one could hope. Revenge was a sweet thing. He had purportedly used “I” instead of “we”, as he already knew the crew would not follow him on this. There were plenty of jobs available for experienced sailors, but not for a former captain. So there was nothing more to say, but wait as they approached the docks.

[Avalyon Marem]

513 AV, Summer, 53th
The Docks at Baroque Bay and an unsavory inn, The Drunken Fish, afternoon

Avalyon kept observing, and observing the docks as they approached it, trying to judge where they should land. They were full of ships and it was full of life: privateers, merchants in their stalls, sailors embarking stuff into ships, slaves disembarking with their master’s whips in hot pursuit after them. In fact, he could not see from the distance, but as he watched the shadows and small silhouettes moving across the piers on that afternoon, he could picture it all on his head. The Gangplank was no man’s notion of a safe place to arrive in a decadent rowboat. He knew the pirates who dwelled there as they knew him, and it was not the safest place to come by on his own. The other piers were just too crowded with ships and did not wish to bring unwanted attention at this stage. There was only an option left. “Let’s turn for Dead Man’s Swagger, it’s always empty.”

“Don’t ye know about the stories? The name has all of it. ‘Dead man’, they say. People go there for a stroll and end up dead. Some folk even tell there’s a ghost around the pier, waving to the marked dead.” Lullaby always spoke in a tone higher than a whisper, used as he was to smuggling. They all laughed of the old man’s story as the boat turned towards Dead Man’s, going by the side of the long stretch of rotten wood until its end. One or two passersby looked at them for a glance, one curious eye watching for danger, but soon lost interest. The rowboat was decaying wood and would soon lose its value, so they left it just there, and everybody disembarked at the wooden planks of the docks. They said their farewells and it was not easy. Lullaby shook his shoulder and spoke in his mild, slow tone. “Take care, old pal. This city is not for beginners. You probably don’t need me to tell ye this, but keep your things close to ya, your cutlass’s pommel close to your grip and your eyes everywhere. This place is dangerous. Many people come here thinkin’ they’ll win life, but they only find an early grave.”

Now, it’s me against the world. He watched them going for the seaside market. Avalyon’s clothes were dry by now, his blue coat stained from the sea, salty water. By lucky he had his cutlass firmly into its scabbard, so no damage came to the iron blade. Truth be told, he was dressed just like a proper captain. He had a white shirt and black pants combining with his black boots, the eyepatch covering his left and the messy short hair was blowing with the the small breeze. Right now, he carried a small fortune of 600 mizas with himself, but none should know by his ordinary look. Three small bags tightly knotted to the insides of his blue coat, away from the prying eyes of cutpurses and honest folk alike.

The weather was hot, humid and a bit difficult to breath, but he would get used to it. Avalyon looked methodically through the piers, observing one warship and many merchant sloops. Far ahead would be the corsair’s brigantines and ol’Father Manowar’s The Drunken Fish tavern. First place to go, no doubt. The man knew things and could get him started on his path in the city. As his long legs carried him through the piers, he never saw a familiar face. There was one richly dressed slaver talking to a possible customer, while two young women no older than 16 looking at both with watery eyes; a sailor sleeping behind some craters; a spotted dog sniffing around some merchant stalls, only to be sent away with a threat. Nobody paid him no mind, only the casual sideways glance towards his eyepatch and the hideous scar he had from brow to lip, on the left of his face.

After crossing the Darkest Waters and Cherry Bay piers, eyeing the sloops and vessels that crowded it, some with decorative prows in the form of women, animals or creatures, he arrived at the Gangplank and there it was, the three story tavern with the wooden signboard featuring a fish interwoven with an ale mug. The doors were made of reinforced wooden and here and there seemed a bit hacked. He opened them and soon the smell of salty food, booze and sweat came into his nostrils. If he wasn’t used to that, he would have retched. Since it was afternoon, the tavern was not so crowded as it would be in a few hours. It’s for the best., he thought as he strolled through the common room through slaves and bed warmers, towards the bar. His head was still a bit dizzy, so he refused the drink Father Manowar offered him. The place’s stink almost made him retch and he knew his limits.

“What’s up with you, my friend? Won’t accept the finest ale in this scalding hot Sunberth? I know you better, One-eyed Avalyon! Now, now, how goes it for you?” Father Manowar smiled wildly, his crooked teeth with a gap here and there. They had met for the first time a few years back, when Avalyon was still a mate in the Laviku’s Bastard and every time Avalyon came to Sunberth, he would stop by his tavern. Speak the necessary, you don’t want everybody knowing you’re now powerless, do you? And I would rather have lodgings here… don’t want to get myself into the city yet, need to learn more about it.

“Everything’s fine, I just drank too much a few hours ago. Won’t do to drink more, otherwise we’ll have it on the floor. Ain’t like you on that matter.” As he heard the pirate’s answer, Manowar boomed on a laughter, which sometimes Avalyon thought was just feigned. “No matter, I’m renting a room for the rest of the season, how about it? Food included, of course. And no questions, I won’t be staying at Laviku’s Bastard anymore.”

Business meant mizas and that was enough to make anyone’s eyes shine, Avalyon knew that. Ol’ Father Manowar listened and nodded and after a while, he answered. “Well, that will be 1 gold miza each day. 5 silvers for the lodgings on the third story, 5 silvers for the meals. Half of the payment in advance. Well, today is the 53th, that will cost you… 39 gold mizas, of which you will pay me 19 gold and 5 silver mizas now. Mayhaps I could find you a suitable wench for the right price, as well…”

Avalyon thought for no more than three seconds and replied, “Let’s make it 35 gold mizas, how about it? I pay you 20 golds in advance”, but to no avail. Father Manowar was a seasoned innkeeper and a former pirate himself, he knew with whom he was dealing. “No, no, my dear Sea Bastard. If you want, you may 2 silvers for the second story, but you will sleep with others. Heh. It’s take it or leave it, what will it be? Besides, there’s always someone looking for accommodation here…”

“Well, one can’t say I didn’t try. Very well, ye. The 39 gold mizas one, I’ll take it. Done.” There was no point in arguing over it. As he made the payment, carefully reaching for the inside of his coat and taking 20 gold mizas, and taking the silver for exchange, he spoke once again. “So, what’s going around the city?” Getting to know the current tidings was always relevant, no matter if you were in the ocean or in a city. Specially one like Sunberth, which had quite a reputation…

Father Manowar rubbed his nose and drank an ale mug as he led Avalyon to a table close to the wall and both took their seats there. One-eyed Avalyon leaned against the wall, listening to the older sailor’s story. “Well, Spring was full of surprises. Ye know the Daggerhand, don’t ye? Bunch of low-lifes, just like us, but without ships. Heh. Thing is, local folks got fed up with them and put the creatures to flames. They even hanged their leader, Robern Dalagnar! Heh. No word about his daughter, though. There’s another syndicate, some merchants or whatever who lived in a closed community, a gated place, guarded by their own soldiers. ‘Dragoons’, they were called. But ye know what? They weren’t able to guard them as they were lynched out of their sweet homes from the mob. Heh. Heard they are in undertunnels, the Blood Pits. The third big guys, the Night’s Eyes… well, heard nothing about them.”

Father Manowar knew things and was quite the storyteller. He told Avalyon a bit about the syndicates and what happened recently to Sunberth, how the power-bases were shaking and anarchy reigned triumphantly. “But who would complain about it? We’re free after all… with the exception of a few of you, huh?” He looked sideways to the slaves who tended the tables and both he and Avalyon laughed, though the slaves remained silent and sullen.

[Avalyon Marem]

513 AV, Summer, 53th
The Drunken Fish, Night

By the time they were finished, Father Manowar had to excuse himself to greet the sailors and captains alike who were arriving to drink for the night, before they returned to their own ships. A few who could afford it would stay the night for some pleasure with one of Manowar’s wenches. Two or three privateers greeted Avalyon by raising their hands, to which he replied apparently calm, even though he was a bit uneasy.

He didn’t pay them much attention, since he was too absorbed on his own thoughts. In fact, he had to lay out a few plans of his own, taking into account Sunberth’s “political” situation. With two of the three major syndicates in disarray there were probably plenty of employment opportunities, but there were as many risks. Despite being an experienced sailor, Avalyon would have to tread carefully through these waves, else they would swallow him.

Then, suddenly as a flash, he remembered. Damn, how could I forget about it? Thinking about waves and tides, he just realized he had forgotten to make an offer to Laviku, the God of the Sea. Thrice he could have died at the sea, and every time, against all odds, Avalyon had been saved by someone. Once-lucky, then twice-lucky, now thrice-lucky. Knowing that he could have died at the sea during two (and now) stages of his life, once in childhood, living it through adolescence and now adulthood had made him a fervent devout of the divine.

Firstly, he had almost drowned when he fell from the Verena, his parents's vessel, during a storm. The young couple, a Zeltivan travelling merchant and his wife, called him lucky and told him he was certainly blessed to have survived that.

Afterwards, by the time he was an adolescent, the vessel sunk when it was caught in a storm but he, along some others, survived. For some days they floated in the sea, until were rescued by… a pirate ship. While the other sailors were sold as slaves or ransomed for money, Avalyon was chosen to become part of the crew and slowly raised through its ranks until he became its captain. Laviku’s Bastard, captained by the Sea Bastard. How fitting. And now, Blondie had saved him from certain death after Mark’s bombard sunk his ship.

It calls for an offering. No, not now. It was late and by no accounts he would leave the inn at this hour of the night and head into the shore to homage his God. What could he offer if he died, considering what he heard from Lullaby and Father Manowar? On the morrow, he would head to the market and buy what he needed, then head to the shore and give it to the waves, his long-time friends. They would bring his token of gratitude to Him. It would also be an opportunity to learn more about the city and its layout… Maybe buy one or two trinkets. He was poorly armed, with just one cutlass. And he needed some sort of protection. His fancy coat and cotton clothes would not help against a knife on his back or the thrust of any blade.

Suddenly, a brusque movement nearby made his hand almost immediately slid to his cutlass’s grip. His eye was wide as a soft, plump bar maid popped at his side, carrying a small dish and placing it at his table. She smiled at him, and he knew it was feigned. The whore wants my coin, bugger her. Which woman would smile towards a man with such a hideous scar covering most of his face, even if most of it was comely? And worse, he wore an eyepatch. The pirate had some experience with women, or so he thought. In fact, he dealt mostly with sluts, and his knowledge was far away from reality regarding women. But he scarcely imagined that.

He looked at the dish which was placed before him. The wooden plate carried two juicy slices of herring, the thinnest crust of grease on top of it. To each side were small slices of cooked turnip and in a small tankard, orangeish pumpkin cream There was also a small vase of sea water as well, so he could wash his hands after he ate. Avalyon grabbed one of the slices of the herring with both hands and started eating. He was sitting close to the wall, away from the noisy middle where men spoke aloud as they pinched bar maids’s butts. Captains and sailors talked nearby and he made a substantial effort to concentrate on what they were talking, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“…indeed, his ship was seen around… Baroque Bay… heard bombards…”. The man talking carried a distinctive symbol of the Zeltivan Navy and Avalyon wondered what he would be doing in the Drunken Fish, alongside scoundrel and scum like himself. Probably another corrupt officer. His interlocutor nodded and also spoke. “Really daring, won’t you say?...should… Dullos hear… so close to Baroque Bay…”
Suddenly, his attention shifted as a sailor jumped on top of a table across the run, with a run bottle on his right hand. “With me, ye bunch!”

“Ooooh, there is a treasure hidden
Beneath the seas of old,
They say it’s to us forbidden,
All this underwater shining gold!”

It was a traditional song pirates enjoyed, Laviku’s Golden Maiden. It told the story of a bold sailor who decided to trick Laviku in his watery palace, in search of the famed treasure. In the end, it turned out to be that there was no treasure, but a golden-haired maiden whose company Laviku kept. The sailor would trick the god and steal the maiden for himself, only to invoke his wrath and be pierced by his trident, while the maiden turned into a statue of solid gold once she had left Laviku’s halls. It was known as a song to inspire respect on the God of the Sea, because nothing of good would come from angry waves.

However, the men who were talking in the next table still caught his attention, and after a while, resumed to their conversation. Meanwhile, Avalyon was finishing his last slice of herring, which had been good enough, washed his hands in the vase and took the tankard with the pumpkin cream. It was a bit watered, but the taste was good.

“…trade between Zeltiva and… no problem at all, the employed svefra… honored the end of their bargain, so they cashed in as well. No one would expect there was alcohol behind the straw in the crates with smoked fish, nor did they care.” As he became used to the accent of the Zeltivan official, it became easier to distinguish his words from the cheering crowd who sang nearby. It was the Zeltivan officer and Avalyon could guess about what they were talking: smuggling alcohol from Sunberth to Zeltiva without paying the due tariffs to the port officials. He had been in the trade for a while, so he could guess it. The Zeltivan Officer’s interlocutor took the word for the first time. “Meanwhile… Sebastian Marks… he heard somehow about that other deal… seems like everybody’s talking about how he raided a smuggling ship near… Baroque Bay… Maybe there was a rat in the crew…”

As soon as that damned name caught his ears, the pirate knew the tale. Somehow, it seems oddly familiar. Avalyon narrowed his eye and tried to keep the man’s features in his mind. The pirate had never seen him before. A bald, white man, with some earrings and bushy eyebrows. His nose was as pointed as a falcon’s beak and he looked more like a merchant than a sailor, proudly wearing a silver chain on his neck. It seemed he knew a lot more than he should, and Avalyon Marem wanted that information.

[Orion Michaels]

Grade on Hold Hey, Avalyon. Please pay seasonal expenses for Summer and then shoot me a PM and I'll be happy to grade your thread! Thanks!