Travels with a Yellow Bird Part 6: Pirate Bait

>Last Time on Travels with a Yellow Bird

>You go over options with your crew shortage and newly liberated supplies hanging in your mind.

>You decide you're going to take some pirates to fill the positions you need. The problem is how.

>You pressure Elsa into sharing more info. Flit helps organize your new plan.


A week passes as Flit and the crew put our sketchy plan into motion. A pirate port is out of the question, we'd be sailing into the maw of the beast. Engaging a pirate ship in open waters is plain unlikely. What we need is something to draw them in, just a ship or two. What we need is bait, in pirated waters. Through the telescope I lay eyes on the sails of the first ship we've seen that meets the qualifications. The mate in the crow's nest had called down about it just minutes ago. Through the lens, the slow overloaded boat almost wallows in the waves, a lightly-armed freighter on the main route out from Limus to central Natans.

Flit tries to snatch the brass spyglass away from me, but I don't need her to back me up on this one. We outgun it and outrun it. The freighter has no escorts. "Raise the flag and set the sails men!" I shout. "Time we repay some of that famous Dragoon kindness." A cheer goes round the deck. Flit nips me painfully on my newly unbandaged arm.

“Ouch! What the fifth hell is it you cranky bird?” I grumble at her.

“And what if they’ve got someone sailing forward patrol you, you cocky caveman!” Flit shoves me, feathers ruffled. Frustrations have mounted for everyone these last few tense days, and I get a strong feeling Flit disapproves of the occasional talks I have with Elsa. She must think the Lizarda is poisoning my mind. Maybe she’s right.

I clear away those thoughts for the task ahead. “Then they’ll be too late to make a difference.”

We sail in from astern. I can hear shouts and orders as we close, a few sailors and black armored ‘goons on the deck. No cannonfire greets us, all their guns sit on the upper forward deck. The freighter is too slow to pull a full turn before we unleash a broadside into her aft timbers. Boards splinter and explode into shrapnel. Holes open between decks. The rudder hangs only by the twisted chain. They are at our mercy. The feminine yells get louder, a large silhouette appears on the aft deck. It’s holding a small cannon in its arms, tail burning brightly. “What deserter scum presumes fire on a Dragoon ship? I’ll make you all into boots and sell them to the elves!” There’s a flash, a bang, and a loud thump as a cannonball ricochets off the deck. I give orders to haul around and make another pass at the stern. A few more good hits and the freighter will begin taking on water.

Stan muscles around the wheel. “Not too close. “ Flit warns. “Don’t give them a chance to board. We can’t win in hand to hand.” She’s right, the only small ranged weapons we have are a few old bellybows from the Limus armory. Only Stan and Elsa are strong enough to load them. That gives us just three shots if things get nasty, and spears and blades after that.
I hear new shouts on the second pass “Men! Men, are on the ship. Strike to maim!” A rain of arrows greets our second pass. The force is so great, some even stick into the metal of the deck. One strikes a crewman in the chest. He bubbles his last breath, blood foaming on his lips. I hear a round of sorrowful screams from the other ship, and moments later I see the offender tossed overboard by her own shipmates.

The noise and smoke begin to fog the surrounding waters between the ships. I give the signal to Flit and she grabs a small barrel of lamp oil and a torch in her talons. I rub her soft hair. She’s combed it down, I wonder why I only notice it now. “You sure you’re not a firebird?” I crack. She brushes my hand away. “Cut the jokes. This is the easy part.” Taking off, she skims the water through the thick gunsmoke toward a large hole in the aft. Arrows follow her and I hunker down as a cannonball tears through our mainsail.

After a few minutes, thick black smoke begins to overpower the light blue gray of burned gunpowder. I give the order to flee. We’ve done what we needed to. Even if they put out the fire, the noise and smoke will attract ships from tens of miles around. We’ll just need to watch the water. I still haven’t see Flit return, but I can’t wait. The grapple hooks from the other ship are barely falling short as it is. The splashes are even now wetting the side of the windjammer. Those Dragoon have powerful throwing arms, and they are motivated.

We return to a watchful distance of several miles and I order everyone to begin repairs. Flit still hasn’t returned, and my gut twists. If something happens to her, our quest is finished. She’s the only one who knows exactly where we needed to go in Jiro. I wait on deck for almost an hour, watching the smoke rise, and still she doesn’t return. I just can’t believe it. Should we go back? Could we even rescue her if we did? Would she even be alive? I stumble to my quarters in a daze. I’m suddenly assaulted by the heavy smell of burning oil when I open the door. Flit is lounging in a washbin on the floor, scrubbing her feathers with precious soap. The wet clothes stick to her body. Before I can say anything, I hear the thudding sound of boots in the hallway behind me.

“Ship ho!” the crewman calls down. “Wooden cutter, loads of guns, red flag with a yellow dog skull.”

“That’s no dog skull. It’s a fox skull.“ Flit picks at her wing. “It's the Debentmador, Graciana Four Tails. I think you’ve reeled in too big a fish this time scribe boy.”

>Parlay the pirates
>Attack the pirates
>Cut your losses and run
>Other

The Debentmador ignores us, closing on the wounded freighter. It's now or never. If they find out our ship is crewed by men, things will get far worse.

I give the order to make battle. We sail at full speed, closing on the stern of the pirate ship. Several well-aimed shots from their twin rear long guns tear railing and collapse the top of our foremast. These pirates are good, better than us. But we're faster, better armored, and I hope to hell a little luckier.

I order chain shot into our forward carronade and yell to aim for the masts.

Flit is in the powder magazine making final preparations on the mine we've cobbled together from fuse and spare armor plate, our secret weapon.

Stan is needed at the helm. The gearing was built for monsters so any quick maneuvers require great strength. Everyone else is loading cannons and preparing to fight. I'll have to pull men off the cannons to haul the mine, or I'll have to get Elsa to do it under Flit's direction. Can I trust the Lizarda?

>Have your men haul the mine and take your chances with less firepower.
>Have Elsa haul the mine

Our third blast of chainshot tears their aft mast clear from the deck. The ropes and rigging tangle in the main mast and a high voice orders so loudly I can hear it over my own screaming "Keep firing."

I give Jenna command of the deck while she's reloading the forward gun and dash down to the brig. Elsa has my dirty old coat wrapped tightly around and stands listening to the sounds of battle outside. "Things no going so well?" She's become a little more gentle in the days since she lost her eye, less sharp-edged in all her moods.

"I need a favor." I gasp breathlessly.

"Favor? Not a demand? You shouldn't ask for something you'll have to return." Elsa's coldness with her quips has been almost replace by smarm.

I explain the plan to my best ability in the short time we have.

"I will count this as a favor. It's good you fight with every resource." Elsa agrees as I fumble with the lock. The tumblers clunk open and she throws open the door viciously, grasping my shirt, yanking me inside the cell. She throws me bodily to the floor. My head slams against the cold deck, arms splayed against the bars and cot. I stare disoriented at her as she looms over me. "How many times did I warn you? How many times? Never trust a Dragoon. Never trust any monster." Her fangs begin to drip and her breath heats up as she sightlessly awkwardly pins me. "Maybe you need a reminder?" She feels hot, hotter than I've ever felt her. Her tongue slithers from between her teeth as she licks the side of my face. The stench of old meat and grog washes over me. I shudder, the sight more monstrous than Ironscale in its base animalistic passion. Strings of saliva attach us as she pulls away. Elsa gets up slowly. She extends her claws in my direction. "But not today. That's two favors you owe me."

I take her hand and lead her to the powder magazine where my harpy waits with our juryrigged mine.

"So you finally let it loose. Stupid move, but I was expecting it." Flit greets us.

Elsa shrugs, tail undulating. "That's what I told him."

"Just hurry." I say as I turn and run back to the top deck. I hear the cannonfire getting more intense as we close to short range. The ship is in chaos. I've wasted too much time down below. The pirates have cut free the destroyed aft mast and hauled more cannon to the aft deck. Shots fly and I see monsters gathering with grapples on deck. A dead lizardgirl hangs over a rail,cut in half by chainshot. My stomach churns as I order everyone to brace for a hard turn. We'll be cutting it close. The crew confirms our port broadside is loaded with scatter shot. That should clear the boarders away. Jenna stuffs some trash shot made of ballast into the forward carronade and fires again. I see a small group of pirates drop back from the stern. A voice follows them. "Cowards! Do you want to sleep alone tonight!"

"Pull starboard!" I yell as Flit leads the blind Lizarda above deck carrying a mine that would take two strong men to lift. The whole windjammer lists twenty degrees as the rudder bites hard against the wake. We begin to pass the Dementador, firing scattershot at intervals to keep boarders down. I see something with furry ears take a chunk to the face and almost retch on the deck. Grapple hooks land on the rails almost faster than we can cut the ropes. The Dementador fires with only a fraction of her broadside, afraid to destroy us without boarding first. We begin to pass her prow and Flit orders Elsa to throw the mine over the side. With strength I didn't know she had, the lizardgirl hurls the spiked chunk of metal across the water. The prow of the Dementador catches it and it begins to bump along the hull. A final bump and it explodes, the force almost capsizing our boat and tearing a great hole in the wooden side of the red ship. The Dementador flounders in the water, sinking on her side. Monsters and men abandon ship every way they can.

The great red ship is sinking slowly. She's dead and helpless in the water. The freighter continues to burn ahead and our own ship leaks under the massive dents caused by the Dementador's heavy guns.

Survivors splash in the water, some grabbing debris, some getting into the few surviving lifeboats. Curses and cries for help combine into a great wail.

Other ships might come soon. If we're near the pirate ship when she goes down, we'll be pulled into the whirpool ourselves. Whatever we do, we better do it quickly.

>Salvage guns from the pirates
>Save pirate crew specify monsters/humans and how many.
>Repair the windjammer
>Finish/pillage the frigate