Before being picked up by the nautiloid, Tav and her pirate crew took on their biggest heist yet. Accompanied by Tommic and his band of cut throats, Tav finds herself in hot water as they discover the cargo they are looking for are actually Netherstones.
This is the backstory I came up with for my Tav with elements and references to the game that I would love to elaborate on further with more fics. Hope you like it!
Tav looked southbound across the vast open sea in a rare moment of calm. The skies were clear, clinging to daylight while the sun moved slowly below the horizon. The ocean rocked her ship gently like a mother rocks a cradle. It was the type of time that her Captain referred to as “the in-betweens,” no duties or work, just letting the wind carry them north. She rubbed a cracked palm across the side of her faithful wooden companion, the rust of the nails tickled her fingers and left brown specs in her skin. Despite age taking its toll on the ship, she could think of no better place to be. The vessel had been her home for nearly twenty years.
A bell tolled from the crow’s nest waking her from her daze. She looked up to see her crewman Marx descending from the ship's rickety ladder in surprising speed given his stout nature.
“We got three ships coming our way. Two frigates and a galleon.” He said as he descended. “Banner is Flaming Fist. Could be the cargo Cap’n is after.”
Tav shook her head. “Our lead said the ship would be a cutter with no banner. These are just decoys to throw us off.”
The crewman fished a dirty cloth from his shirt pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. He spoke between heavy breaths with worry in his tone. “Cutter must be close then if we’re seeing decoys and all. Maybe we should switch directions, swing wide so they don’t see us.”
“No need to throw ourselves off course, but we should use discretion. They will be on the lookout for pirates.” Tav replied.
She thrust her arms over the side of the ship and uttered the words “Dai’torna.” A thick mist poured out from her palms, wrapping itself around the ship and blanketing them in a gray cloud. She held her posture, closing her eyes to make sure nothing broke her concentration until the Fist’s vessels passed, detouring away from the ominous fog. When the danger had passed, she broke the spell, allowing the cloud to rapidly evaporate.
She turned to see Marx had not left her side. He had a wondrous look across his face as he often had when he watched her do magic. His reaction roused a subtle smile from within her.
“We best tell the cap’n, and that Tommic fella.” His face scrunched into a grimace as he spoke Tommic’s name. She exhaled sharply, sharing his feelings of discontent. The crew had been playing host to Tommic and his crew for only a week, but the animosity between the parties felt like decades of discourse.
As Tav and Marx entered the captains’ quarters, they took in the warm smell of sandalwood incense. The room was a stark contrast to the rest of the ship. It was spacious and well decorated with velvet red curtains over the portholes and a large soft bed covered in furs. In the center was a round wooden table with delicate plates filled with stale oatcakes and dried meat.
Captain Uto leaned over a map, a cherrywood pipe hanging loosely from his lips and a furrowed brow atop his dark inquisitive eye. Next to him was Tommic. He was a small man with greasy black hair and sharp fingernails that he dug into the surface, indenting nail marks into Captain Uto’s mahogany desk. He barked orders at Uto with a high nasally voice, spit flying from his mouth across the map.
“We are meant to be partners, you swine! Listen to me when I tell you that you are risking far too much!”
Uto didn’t flinch at the man's insults. He spoke softly and calmly, as if soothing a child from a tantrum.
“I assure you, lad. I want this as much as you do. We have gotten this far, tracked the ship all the way from Waterdeep. You must trust me just a little longer. I will get us that cargo.”
Uto removed his pipe from his mouth and glanced up at his crewmen. Both Marx and Tav straightened their backs as he looked them over.
“Status?” said Uto in a staccato fashion.
“Just passed three Fist ships going south.” Tav answered. “Two frigates and a galleon.”
Tommic’s eyes went wide. “Then we're getting close. We need to decide how we will proceed.”
The captain nodded. “Fist ships are fast and agile, but they happen to have weak portholes. The window protrudes out and the locks are flimsy little things. It will be easy enough to sneak a few dinghies through the water, tie down our boats, and lockpick our way in.”
“No, no no!” Tommic said frantically. “I will not trust the success of this mission on your ability to pick a lock! We need to ambush them! We have the manpower and plenty of cannons, Let's show them our teeth!”
“If this ship has the type of cargo, you say it does, it will have backup close by. I’ve dealt with these ships before. We will be in and out before they even know what hit them.”
“You had better be right.” Tommic huffed. “If we waste this chance, I will cut off your head and allow my crew to feast on your flesh.”
Both Marx and Tav clenched their fists, anxiously waiting for their Captain’s next move. Uto merely laughed and slapped the man on the back in a display of friendship.
“By this time tomorrow, we will be on our way to Baldur’s Gate for the biggest payout of our lives. Marx, please see Tommic back to his quarters, I’d like to eat dinner with my daughter now.”
Marx acquiesced, leaving with Tommic by his side. The captain shut the door behind them, pressing his head against the wood as his anger came back to him.
“It will be a fine day when I can stop playing nice with that worm. A fine day indeed.”
Tav sat down and began gnawing on a strip of dried meat. With a mouthful of food, she asked. “What exactly is it on this ship?”
Uto shrugged, grabbing a hidden jar of plum preserve he’d been saving for a special occasion and placing it between them. “Some rare types of ore from what I can tell. I don’t rightly care what it is, Tommic’s buyer is willing to pay us enough gold to set us all up for a long time.”
Tav tried to mask her uncertainty by shoving an oat cake in her mouth. Crumbly bits of the dry biscuit peppered her clothes and the ground below her. Despite this, Uto saw through her.
“Out with it. What’s that look for?”
She swallowed the dry ship’s biscuit and wiped away the crumbs from her mouth. “That man is willing to risk everyone's lives in an ambush with the Flaming Fist. In the short time he’s been on our ship he has shown himself to be unhinged and lacking respect. Why should we trust him?”
“I don’t trust him.” Uto admitted. “But I know one thing for sure, whatever it is on that cutter, he doesn’t just want it…he needs it. Once it's in our hands he will pay exactly what he promised us.” Uto inhaled deeply on his pipe, exhaling the warm smell of tobacco.
“And if you’re wrong?” Tav asked tentatively.
Uto’s eyes darted up at her. He was not a fan of others questioning his decision making, however Tav was his blind spot. The memory of the frail child she once was, with soaked black hair and bright blue eyes staring up at him like a scared doe, never left his mind. He patted her hand in reassurance. “Trust me, my girl. I’ve never been wrong before, and I don’t plan to start now.”
“Never?” She said coyly. “What about that time we were stranded Delselar with nothing but the clothes on our back?”
“I got the ship back in the end, didn’t I? Besides, it was you who trusted those wood-elves in the first place.”
“Because you told me to.” she argued.
Uto laughed, spitting bits of his dinner across the table. “We’ll be alright, my girl. We’ll be alright.”
Tav leaned back in her seat full of their dinner, she placed her own pipe between her teeth and lit it. “Exactly How much gold are you expecting from this shipment anyways?”
“Enough for the crew to take an extended stay at the Blushing Mermaid and a feast filled with roast chickens, fresh vegetables, fruit pies, wine, brandy, maybe some lamb shanks while we’re at it.”
“So, enough gold for us to get fat and piss drunk…hardly seems worth it in my opinion, even for lamb shanks.”
“There is one other thing.” Uto said with a smirk. “Go to my desk, there is a parchment in the left-hand drawer.”
Tav put her pipe down and did as she was told, opening the desk drawer to discover a tri-folded parchment, a wax seal hanging loosely from the top. She recognized the insignia embedded within the wax; a ship surrounded by ivy.
“Garrett Ivy?” She asked.
“Best ship-smith in the seven realms.”
“Garrett is a fine businessman; he doesn’t let petty grievances get in the way of a good deal.”
“We stole two of his ships and sold them to smugglers…he tried to stab you with a kitchen knife.”
“And I’ve since forgiven him for that, now quit stalling and open the bloody letter.”
Tav returned to the table and unfolded the parchment flat between them. sail plans of vessels. It was a brig, built for speed and scouting from a distance. The ship's design was modified to the captain’s request, with gaff rigging on the mainsails and a larger hull for extra crew. A note with few words came attached to the sail plans.
It'll be ready come winter. Don’t fuck me on this.
Tav continued to study the schematics while taking fingers full of plum preserve.
“It’s a clever design. But I wonder how fast she’ll be with the additional weight. the rear mast seems a bit large, might get away with making it smaller...”
“Never mind that…do you like it?”
“Sure, but it’s nothing compared to the Hawks Feet.”
“It’ll be better than the Hawks Feet.” He admitted. “With a better captain too.”
Her eyes met his gaze, he’d grown serious in his countenance. There was a deafening silence as Tav began to understand what it was he meant.
“You mean me?” She asked.
“Yes…This is your ship to lead, my girl.”
She shook her head, pushing the parchment as far away from her as possible. “My ship? Are you insane? I can’t be captain!”
Uto pushed it right back. “And why not?”
“Because it makes no sense! There are people on this crew who have sailed more years than I’ve been alive. Pearly Paul and Fitch have been by your side since the day this ship first touched water. Give one of them a ship! Not me!”
Uto turned to her, placing one of her sticky jam covered hands in his. “My girl, you were born to be a captain. You know everything there is to know about sailing, inside and out. You can identify a vessel by the way it rides the waves alone. Beyond that, you’ve shown good judgment, far better than Pearly Paul or Fitch, and -on rare occasions- better than me. Best of all, you are respected. The crew trust you and they will follow your lead. You will make an incredible captain. Now, humor me and take the bloody ship.” Tav went silent in both fear and excitement as she looked over the parchment once more.
“My ship, My ship.” She repeated. “But what will you do once the crew and I are gone?”
“Sell the Hawks Feet, take what gold I have left and retire somewhere peaceful…maybe I’ll try my hand at farming.”
Tav laughed at the thought, Uto was hardly the type for simple living. She watched as he retrieved a brown flask embellished with gold filled with fine brandy from his jacket pocket, uncorked the flask and held it before her. “To Captain Tav.” He took a large swig and passed the bottle to her proudly.
She sipped the fiery liquid and raised the flask back to him. “And to Uto, the farmer.”
As the evening dragged on, Tav found herself on the top deck alongside Marx and several of her crew in a makeshift celebration to their soon to be captain. Wood Eye, the ship's navigator, uncorked a rare whisky they’d been holding on to for special occasions while the ship's gunner, Goose, dealt hands of Three Dragon Ante. Fitch and Pearly Paul sat on either side of her, patting her on the back like proud uncles, occasionally regaling the group with embarrassing stories of Tav’s youth. The group cackled at limericks, fighting off the frigid cold with liquor and pipe weed.
“Here’s one.” Marx said while clearing his throat.
“I was sweet on a girl from Berdusk
Who had a very strange musk.
And wanted more than a shag.
Now my sweetie has made me a husk.”
The group burst into laughter, slapping the man on the back in glee. Tav felt a sense of bliss in the moment. These people were more than a hodge podge crew of pirates and vagrants, they were her family.
“I’ve got a good one.” She said,
“I met a lad down at the inn,
Who wanted to take me for a spin.
Turns out that he was my kin.”
Howls of laughter erupted from her crew; they stamped their feet boisterously with tears in their eyes. From the shadows appeared three men from Tommic’s crew. Two drow elves and a human who smirked at them with an air of superiority. It was the human who spoke for them. A tall lanky gentleman with crooked teeth, gapped and protruding awkwardly.
“I thought the plan was to move quietly. You’ll wake the dead with the way you pigs are squeelin’. Honestly, if the Fist do find us, they may just mistake you all for swine and cook you for dinner.”
“Don’t worry, if anyone dies, we’ll give them a proper burial with the headstones you call teeth.” Marx quipped.
The man scowled at the group, his fingers trembling against his dagger. Tav interjected, remembering the way Captain Uto approached Tommic.
“Come now, no need to fight, gentleman. We’ve seen no ships for hours. The crow’s nest will alert us well before anyone catches wind we are here.” She extended a hand, gesturing for them to join. “Stay for a round? Assuming you have gold to lose, Wood Eye is on a bit of a hot streak.”
After a pregnant pause, the three sat down alongside the group. She could feel the tempers rise from her crewman and mouthed the words ‘play nice’ to them to calm them down. The cards were dealt, and the bottles continued to rotate although more slowly than they had before. The pipe came to her, and she placed it to her lips, inhaling deeply. The tobacco had a subtle taste of bitter chocolate and hemp. As she extended the pipe to the man she asked. “What's your name?”
“Jasper.” he said curtly.
“Good to have you on board, Jasper.”
He remained unphased by her kindness. He took a hit from the pipe and held it in as he spoke. “Been awhile since I’ve seen a warlock.” he exhaled, aiming the smoke in her direction.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“That display with the fog earlier. Figure, You're not some stuffy wizard type. Those sods cast spells all prim and proper like the books tell’em to. And you sure as shit aint a sorcerer. They are far too rich to be caught dead in a pirate vessel unless they were here for ransom. wizards and sorcs earn their magic, either by blood or by book…When you meet them, they never seem to shut up about it. But not warlocks, warlocks are secretive about their magic. They have to be, lest the beasty behind the curtain gets mad at them. “You ain't said nothin’ about your little party tricks, so I reckon you must be a warlock.”
He inhaled the pipe again before passing it, this time blowing the smoke directly at her. She forced a smile despite her temper rising.
“That’s very perceptive of you.”
He continued. “It’s in the way you cast too…There's a touch of chaos to it. I could feel it. It’s like a dark aura that comes from inside, a desperation that only a warlock would have.”
“Desperation?” Marx repeated. “You best be careful lad, you are a guest on this ship, and you're walking a fine line.”
“Well, the way I sees it, it’s either desperation or stupidity to sign a contract with a monster for magic.”
Fitch reached for his weapon, but Tav pressed her hand into his chest to stop him.
“It’s all right. I take no issue with his assessments. I rather like the idea of having a “dark aura” about me. Perhaps if more people thought like Jasper, I'd get more tail in pubs.”
“So, what's the story?” He asked indignantly. “Who's the lucky patron to claim your soul? A devil? A demon? Let us know now so we can avoid the surprise when a hell spawn comes bursting out of the shadows looking for penance.”
She sighed, seeing there was no way out of his interrogation. “Well…Captain tells the story much better than I, but I'll do my best. Sixteen years ago, Uto was sailing from the Moonshae Isles back to Amn when a massive storm rolled through. He says it was the worst storm he’s seen in all his ages of sailing, winds and waves thrashing the boat so hard the crew could barely stand up. Apparently, the ship was near some small island called Ithbin or Ethbor…something like that. The captain decided to lower the sails and keep the ship far enough from the island to avoid collision but close enough where they could swim to shore in case the boat capsized. Well, while the crew is fighting this storm, he sees a bright blue light pulsing out of the water near this rocky patch of shoreline. He gets this overwhelming sensation, like he is being bewitched by this light. He says the air began to smell like sage and honey, and he heard a woman’s voice in the back of his mind, pleading with him to come help her.”
“Anyways, despite his better judgment, the captain gave the order to raise the sails and started moving towards this blue light. I don’t know the details but by the grace of the gods, he manages to get to the light and quickly deploys the anchor before wind could carry them into the rocks. When he looks out over the bow, he sees it isn’t a light at all. It’s this beautiful glowing fey creature with long sapphire hair and bright blue eyes that shimmered against the water. In her arms was a child-no older than five-out cold and soaked to the bone. The fey floats up out of the water to the bow, places this child into the boat and starts demanding that the captain take care of this child. Well, Uto wasn’t keen on the idea, but he felt it wasn’t in his best interest to pick a fight with a fey in the middle of a giant storm, so he agrees and the fey just disappears into the mist, leaving this child in his care.”
“That child was me…obviously. I awoke once the storm had passed with no recollection of anything save slipping into a raging river. He had all intention of dropping me off at a monastery once we reached Amn. That changed when he found out I had inherited the fey’s magic, he decided I’d be a good fit for his crew. I’m grateful for that, I don’t think I would have made a very good priest. Too much chanting and bowing for my liking.”
Jasper narrowed his eyes to her. He placed his cards down allowing the came to carry on without him.
“So, this fey is your patron? What happened to her?” he asked.
“Don’t know…I’ve never actually met her; I just feel her. It’s like she's always somewhere in the mist watching over me.” Tav paused, taking a moment to feel her patron. The air around her turned warm and inviting, the sweet scent of sage and honey mysteriously engulfed her. She heard the faint hum of a lullaby, one that no one else but her could hear.
Jasper clenched his jaw in bitterness. “So, you just get magic, no consequences? No contract? No training of any sort? All because some shiny bitch fished you out of a river?”
Tav nodded her head coyly at him. “It seems I do, doesn’t it?”
Unsatisfied with this answer, he left without another word. As he stomped away, his drow companion followed suit.
The game continued, although Tav departed for bed not long after Jasper. She laid in her bunk alone, continuing to feel the warm air around her caressing her face lovingly. The warm scent of her patron continued to fill her nostrils, she was protected, she was at peace. As long as her patron was there, she would be alright.
She awoke to the hushed voices of her crewmen gathering supplies. The group scuttled quietly across the lower decks; stumbling into one another as they frantically dressed and stuffed their pockets with knives, lockpicks, and sleeping potions. Tav knew in an instant the cutter was found and sprang from her bed and began filling every available pocket as they had. Once they were full, she placed a sheathed rapier on her back and covered herself in a thick black cloak with the hood up.
Uto and Tommic were already at the bow when she arrived. They were hushed, clutching their spyglasses tightly until their knuckles were white. From a distance she could see a dull amber light flickering across the waters with incredible speed. She removed her own spyglass from her coat pocket and watched as the object of their desire burst through waves with ease, a small single mast ship with no banner in sight. An unusual sickly feeling swelled up in her stomach all at once. The smell of her patron became pungent and her usually docile song echoed loudly in her mind like a wail. She dismissed the sensation as nerves but remained aware of its presence.
“Exactly as described” Tommic muttered “and with no other ships in sight.”
“That you can see, lad.” Uto replied “You never know what lies beyond the horizon. Stick to the plan.”
He removed his spyglass, turning to leave and beckoning Tav to his side for orders. “Have the crew prep two dinghy’s then position the ship southwest of the cutter. Tommic and I will take the first group, you take the second.”
She nodded and hurried across the decks to assist her crew with positioning, the discomfort of her patron not far from her mind. The cutter proved faster than they had anticipated, the amber lights of their torches grew larger, and the whites of the sails were now visible against the blackened sky. If they did not move quickly, they would be spotted; Tav shuttered to think of the fight a losing an opportunity of this magnitude would create amongst the rival crews.
Uto and Tommic hurried with their crew to a set of large dhingys hanging above the choppy waters, ready to be lowered.
“Come from an angle to the starboard side, they're less likely to see you that way.” Uto commanded.
“That ship is fast, are you sure we can catch them?” Tav asked.
“Of course, we can, we’ve got our strongest rowers. Remember, knives and poisons only, no magic.”
As he descended into the boat, the sickly feeling in her stomach came back now accompanied by chills down her spine. Her patron’s smells of sage and honey turned sour and metallic. Her song turned to incoherent whispers in the back of Tav’s mind, overlapping each other with such intensity it made her head pound. As the sensation faded, she looked upon her captain with the same uncertainty he’d seen in his quarters. Before she could say anything, he grasped her shoulder and squeezed.
“Just do as I say, lass. Keep your wits about you.”
She gave Uto a quick nod, shaking the fear from her body.
With three pulls to the ropes, the dhingys hit the water setting sail under the cover of darkness. Tav’s group swung wide towards the starboard side as instructed while their captain rowed straight for the ship. She watched through her spyglass as Uto and Tommic’s crew grew closer to the ship. Tommic’s men rowed in perfect synchronicity building speed quickly, but it was still nothing compared to the speed of the cutter. Her own crew worked hard to close the gap between them and their captain as beads of sweat rained down from their bodies. Uto and company approached the ship first, the dhingy bobbed violently in the wake of the cutter making it difficult for him to wrap a rope around the portholes. There was precious little time for them to make their move and the cutter was now downwind, picking up speed beyond what their tired rowers could contend with.
“Change directions, swing portside.” She commanded.
“What? They’ll see us.” Said Pearly Paul.
“Not if you're fast enough…Just do it.”
With what strength they had left, the crew turned and attempted to cross in front of the cutter. Tav dove her hand in the frigid waters and spoke firm yet quiet.
Large and jagged ice rafts began emerging from the water, trailing behind them like celestial dust against the darkness of the sea. She watched and listened as the cutter abruptly raised the sails and began to turn away from them the icy waters and towards the captains dhingy. The ship slowed just enough for him to grab a hold of the porthole and tie their boat to the side of the cutter. She breathed a sigh of relief as they continued traveling portside.
Soon the windows of the cutter were within their reach. Tav stood on the wobbly boat and grabbed the porthole with both hands, tying her own rope tightly around the metal of the porthole. she peered inside to a darkened armory, the open mouth of cannons stared back at her eye level. She pressed her fingers in where the window met the wood and pinched the metal lock with her thumb and forefinger.
“Ready yourselves, this won't be subtle.” she instructed.
As the crew grasped hold of their vials of sleep potions, Tav spoke her incantation. “Ignis.”
The metal around the porthole grew red with such intense heat that the glass of the window cracked like a spiderweb. She released the metal and bashed her elbow through the fragile glass. The group entered, quickly diving behind boxes of ammunition and gunpowder ready for a fight. After a moment of silence from all sides they breathed easier.
Tav sheathed her rapier once more. “Start looking through cargo, when you find the ore, bring it straight to the captain, don’t say anything to anyone else.”
Her men obeyed and began slinking across the lower decks for cargo, sleep potion in hand for the first sight of movement. Tav uncorked her own vial as she made her way across the armory and down a narrow hallway. She paused, noticing the ship seemed curiously new. The floorboards had no wear of any kind and there was a faint smell of fresh varnish. She rubbed her hands across the walls to feel the smooth sanded wood, no slivers, or rusted nails in sight.
While distracted, a man dressed in red and gray armor of the Flaming Fist appeared around the corner, stopping in his tracks, and readying his sword.
“Who are you?” He yelled. “Ay! We’ve got- “
Before he could finish, she splashed the vial of sleep potion into his eyes. The poison overtook him, causing him to fall limp against the floor with a loud thump. She turned, hoping to make her escape but found herself wrapped in the arms of another soldier who squeezed tightly around her neck.
“Stowaways! Sound the alarms!” The soldier yelled.
She kicked and flailed trying to escape but was outmatched by his strength. As the air left her body and her vision began to blur, she thought of the dozens of spells that could have helped her in this moment if she could only make the words.
Suddenly his grip loosened. She heard a muffled cry before the two of them collapsed to the ground in a heap. The faint smell of sleep potion wafted from his face.
“You alright, lass?” She heard from above her.
Captain Uto pulled her up by her cloak while She gasped for air. “Yes, sir.” she panted. “But he warned the others.”
“They’re already down. We’re dropping anchor, the ship is ours for now.” Uto placed a damp rag back in his pocket, the foul scent of sleep potion tucked away with it. “That was risky what you did out there. I told you no magic.”
“You also said I had good judgment.” Tav replied.
“And I’m beginning to regret saying that considering you nearly let that soldier kill you.”
Tav bit her lip, wanting to defend herself but knowing he could have been right were it not for Uto’s intervention. “Well, you couldn’t keep up with the cutter, I needed to do something.”
“Fair enough.” Uto admitted “But no more.”
They entered the cargo bay, which was already being turned over by their crew. The group rummaged through containers half filled with cheap bottles of alcohol and random assortments of rice, barley, and chewing tobacco. No valuables in sight. Uto smoothed down the edges of his mustache as he contemplated, looking around at just how clean and empty the ship had been. Tav informed Uto of her observations of the ship's pristine condition.
“Ay, good eye, lass. This ship was built special for this journey. Cargo must be hidden then. Search the walls and the floorboard.”
After a few moments of the crew knocking and prying at each board, they found what they were looking for. A loose panel with a thin transparent wire strung around it and back within the bowels of the ship. Uto carefully snipped the wire and removed the board revealing a small ornate chest surrounded entirely in smoke powder and two flint strikers ready to ignite with the pull of the thread. Tav felt the fear return to her body as Uto lifted the chest free of the explosives. The foul metallic smell returned so pungent she could taste it on her tongue.
“Gods, there's enough powder to blow the entire rig sky high. They were ready to die for this.” Uto remarked.
He dug his knife into the keyhole of the chest and thrust the blade outward, breaking the lock off. Inside were three jagged crystals that pulsated shiny red lights across the velvet interior of the chest. The magic within the stones was so potent the crew could taste the magic on their tongues. It was bitter and musty but left an energetic feeling in their stomachs as if bees had nested within them.
“What are they?” Marx asked.
“I’ve no idea.” Uto replied in wonder. “But I see now that we may be in over our heads.”
He slammed the box shut and tucked it into his pack, His mood more irritable than it had been. He urged his crew to check once more for anything of value before returning to the top deck where the Hawks Feet would be waiting for them. Tav stuck close by him, her entire body filled with dread as her patron began to cry and wail. She knew the stones were the source of her fear, they filled her with an overwhelming urge to run as fast as she could back to the Haws feet but forced herself to stay in lock step with her captain, fearing what they would do to him if left unattended.
As they began ascending to the bow of the ship, the metallic smell returned to her, only now Uto smelled it too. He paused his steps and sniffed wildly. They heard a faint dripping sound from above them, their faces became speckled with the sticky substance dripping between the floorboards above. Uto grazed his hands across his face to inspect the liquid, they had both been covered in blood. When they reached the top deck, they found puddles of it pooling from the sliced bodies of the Fist soldiers they had knocked out, with Tommic and his men proudly wielding drenched daggers checking to make sure each one was in fact dead.
“What the hells are you doing!” Uto yelled in a panic. “You didn’t have to kill them! they were unconscious!”
Tommic simply laughed, wiping his sticky blades on his pants then placing them back in their sheath. “What do a few dead Fist matter to you? What happened to the ruthless pirates of old?”
“Kill a few and guarantee yourself a thousand more. The Fist do not show mercy when it comes to fallen kin!”
“Gods, you’re softer than I thought. I am not worried about amateur guardsmen, swine. Who is going to find us when everyone who would turn us in is dead!”
It was then that Tav noticed Tommic’s men had begun to crowd the two of them, blocking their escape to the Hawks Feet with weapons still drawn. She removed her rapier, tapping Uto with her foot to warn him. From the lower decks they heard the clanging of steel, however they were too overwhelmed to do anything save hope for their crew’s victory. The captain turned red in anger, eyeing the group of six that had surrounded him and his daughter. He reached his hand in his bag grabbing the cargo they had worked so hard to obtain and thrust his arm over the railing. He watched as Tommic winced.
“What have we stolen? Why were these men willing to die for it? Tell me right now, or I will show you the kind of ruthless pirate I can be!” Uto demanded.
“Nether Stones, from the ancient city of Netheril.” Tommic said with a devious smile. “We are going to rebuild the world.”
Both Tav and Uto’s eyes went wide. Netheril, the ancient floating city whose power knew no bounds. The empire that grew so powerful and proud its people attempted to ascend to godhood before collapsing from its own hubris. Uto couldn’t be sure if Tommic was telling the truth, or if he was simply a madman. Either way he refused to find out.
“You're a bloody lunatic. Far worse than I had imagined. I’d sooner sink something of this kind of power than to trust it in the hands of you.”
As his hand released the chest over the water, a clap of thunder erupted with such force it blew Tav and Uto from their feet, blowing the chest with them which scattered the stones across the deck. She could hear nothing for a moment save an intense ringing in her ear. When she opened her eyes, she could see Jasper standing above them. His hands crackled with magic, not that of a wizard or sorcerer, but the chaotic eldritch type of magic that only the desperate could obtain. Tommic quickly gathered in his pockets as he ran to board the Hawks Feet.
Uto rose and ran after him, daggers in each hand attacking anyone that came close. Jasper mouthed another spell, but this time she blocked it with a wall of pure radiant magic that arched around them in a brilliant golden hue. She thought for a moment they could make it if she could shield them long enough for Uto to get to the ship, but when three of Tommic’s men ran at her, she dropped the shield and let loose a bolt of lightning that chained from man to man, killing them all. She heard as Jasper let out another incantation and braced for its impact yet felt nothing. When she turned back, she watched in horror as her captain laid still on the ground, an icicle spear sticking out from his eye, his face contorted and glazed over in death.
She fell to her knees beside him, trembling and exhausted, surrounded, waiting for the spell that would end her life. Jasper gnashed his crooked teeth together in excitement, reveling in his inevitable victory when the smell of honey and sage filled the air. A blue glow appeared above her, that morphed into a beautiful woman with misty blue skin and sapphire hair. Tav watched wide eyed as her patron launched a whip of water that wrapped around Jasper’s legs and pulled him to the ground. With the attention now off Tav, she took the moment to try and run to the Hawks Feet, but Jasper let out another wave of thunder, knocking her clean off her feet and down the flight of stairs to the lower decks.
For a moment everything went black. She laid breathless and in pure agony, as she tried to move but the pain of broken ribs was too much to bear. The smell of blood surrounded her, not hers, but of Marx who laid next to her cold and white as a ghost. Pearly Paul’s body was not far from them, laying in a crumpled heap across spilled boxes of rice. She recognized Finch’s tunic, he was laying limp face down on top of one of Tommic’s men, a dagger sticking out of back.
She wasn’t sure how long she had laid there, only that the commotion on the top deck quieted. There were sounds muffled voices and footsteps could be heard as they hurried to leave. With some effort, she turned her broken body to face the smoke powder residing on the other side of the cargo bay. She closed her eyes, praying for forgiveness to whichever gods would listen, then spoke her incantation as she had so many times before.
There was nothing, not even a spark of magic left in her. She searched her mind for her patron, there was nothing; no singing, no wailing, nothing but silence and death surrounded her, as she heard Tommic’s crew board her faithful wooden companion. She closed her eyes again, now committed to dying amongst her family.
She was almost gone when she felt herself jerked awake by the shoes of a woman with green skin and a purple cloak. She nudged Tav’s shoulder with her shoe roughly and listened as Tav groaned in pain.
“Unbelievable.” She said, “We’ve got a live one.”
It was morning by the time they found her, a faint ray of sunlight shined down from the top deck illuminating the woman in glorious light like an angel. She knelt in the blood and rested her hands on Tav’s chest. An orange ray of magic flowed from her hands into Tav’s body. Slowly the pain in her chest melted away, she felt her strength come back to her.
“My name is Counsellor Florrick. We will be taking you back to Baldur’s Gate.”
“Thank you.” Tav uttered in a raspy voice.
“I wouldn’t thank me just yet.” The woman replied curtly. “Unless you can tell me what happened to the stones, we won’t be friends for much longer.”
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