Captain Physalia's Backstory: At Your Own Peril
Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)
Pairing: N/A, Physalia-Centric
Rating: Holy shit M.
AN: This is a hypothetical scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Captain Physalia. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets. Trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!
Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!
Inspired By: Dragon Age; Inquisition: In Hushed Whispers
[Tieliaths are the result of a union between a tiefling and a goliath.]
[Captain Physalia is a level eleven Triton Ancients paladin, and her appearance can be found here.]
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including violence, mentions of slavery and implied character death. Stay safe!]
Captain Physalia, at the helm of the Karyth Delta alongside Jupiter, finally gave a single nod of approval once they had cleared the shallow harbor. "You're getting better."
Jupiter went bright blue at what was lavish praise from the normally-stoic captain, trying and failing to hide her smile. "Thank you, Captain."
The other Triton merely nodded again, continuing her walk to the main deck. Her thoughts were preoccupied with their latest acquisitions, a troubled bunch to say the least. They had already been deposited to the safe haven of one of the many communities these islands fostered, but that community would in turn need extra supplies while the refugees recuperated.
A little human girl, barely in her fourteenth year, huddled beside a coil of rope. She believed she had stowed away and Physalia had humored the delusion until they had left the harbor. "What is your name, girl?" The captain queried, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood beside the rope and stared out at the darkness.
There was a beat of silence where Physalia could feel the panic rushing off of the little one in waves. Then, the child slowly got to her feet, head hung low. "Lara."
"Lara." The name was unfamiliar, difficult for her tongue. It hissed between her teeth. "Why did you sneak back aboard the Delta, little Lara? I had assumed that your last boat ride was sufficient."
"B-Because I...I know what you're going to do and I wanted to see it." The girl answered without guile.
"Oh? What is it that I'm going to do?" Physalia asked, feigning curiosity.
"You...Y-You're going to attack the ship of the flesh traders."
The captain gazed back out at the moonless night. "Perhaps. Does that trouble you?"
"No." Lara snapped, angry, young. She didn't know any better; she had been purloined from everything familiar and crushed into the hold of a ship with fifty-odd other women to be sold elsewhere. "You're the Triton captain of the Verdant Keen, the ghost ship that strikes the wicked from the fog."
The razing of the fishing village that occupied the lonely peninsula to the north had come as a shock to Physalia. Perhaps she had been optimistic to think that the legends would keep flesh peddlers away. More than mere legends hunted these waters though.
The Karyth Delta plowed through the waves, sending shocks of spray up around the figurehead. "I am no hero, little one. There will be no glamor in this." Captain Physalia warned. "Whatever you've heard about in stories, put it from your head. I know how much you land folk love to romanticize the sea, but she is as rebarbative and changeable as the men who plunder her waves."
"I understand."
She didn't, not yet. She was much too young to understand. But she would someday.
Atoll came to perch on the captain's shoulder and Physalia sighed. "Have our fog at the ready. Weislanda willing, the wind stays becalmed. According to the rest of the women, the ship will be empty aside from the crew and the shattered remains of their valuables." The captain gripped the railing when she spied the far-off twinkle of yellow lanterns close to the water's surface. "Lara, I need you to tell Atoll and N'inesmuch exactly what the ship looked like. Any and all details."
The girl looked up at the brightly-colored bird with a bit of confusion, but obediently held out her hand so the druid could swap her seating.
"You'll find N'inesmuch in the galley, I'm certain. You can't miss her." Physalia said dryly. The second mate was a large Tigris Tabaxi with a black circle around her right eye. She had a well-documented penchant for sweets that was encouraged by the quartermaster, who was a sharp-tongued Halfling named Spoon.
Once the girl had left, Rannock 'Broadside' sauntered up alongside the captain. "You'll send me in first, right boss?" He asked eagerly, making the Triton chuckle.
"Of course. I know how much you love a good fight. Just don't get too out of hand. Belle stayed behind and I don't need you and your half-brother butting heads again over your scratches." The captain reminded him sternly. "The captain of that vessel, whoever they may be, must pay for their crimes."
"And they will." The Tieliath swore, his eyes flinty with anger.
The Karyth Delta was not a particularly speedy ship. She was covered in moss, barnacles and vines and, for all intents and purposes, did indeed resemble a ghost ship far more than a seaworthy vessel. However, she possessed a singularly useful structural feature: her keel draft was exceedingly shallow.
This keel allowed the unwieldy-looking ship to easily maneuver over reefs and through channels that ought to beach it, giving her and her crew the tactical advantage in many a coastal fracas. It also made the vessel more responsive at the cost of stability, for if they came about with a full head of power she threatened to capsize. She was a touchy craft, scabbed together with the boney flotsam of other, less fortunate slavers and schooners. Much like the majority of her crew, the ragtag bunch scavenged from the waves.
But none had to endure. Physalia would force no being to remain aboard the Karyth Delta, and she demanded no such boons of loyalty from any innocent man who did not wish to stay. Her sailors were ever-changing, which suited her just fine. Though she had managed to gather a bit of a steady rogue's gallery.
First had been the surgeons, Livesey the Gnome and Ailsyuh the Goliath. They were a crotchety old couple with a bent for bickering that almost eclipsed their affection for one another. They were natives of the crown of islands, and were intimately familiar with the surrounding territories.
Closely following on their heels was Ailsyuh's younger half-brother Rannock, a Tieliath who had been raised by his Tiefling mother to prevent a scandal from occurring in the Shuliezka family. He was headstrong and mouthy, but possessed keen instincts and a sound tactical mind.
Spoon Mulberry (of the Castakay Mulberry family, not those thinbloods in Fhisklos, thank you very much) had been a strange case. The diminutive woman had just showed up at the docks one day, asking around for anyone that needed a cook on their next charter. By the grace of Weislanda, she had found the Karyth Delta and the rest was history.
Atoll had literally fallen into Physalia's lap while they were sailing around the cape of the mainland, the mermaid druid plummeting out of the sky after a wild scuffle with a larger bird had rendered her unconscious. While she lacked the affiliation of a larger clan of mer, she had a certain noble authority that could not be discounted. Physalia freely admitted her bias when she invited Atoll to stay on as first mate, the Triton just pleased to have another water-inclined individual aboard.
N'inesmuch had volunteered her services out of gratitude when the Karyth Delta rescued her from the wreckage of her forlorn little sloop, and over time had risen through the ranks to Boatswain. A formidable force in her own right, with the help of Atoll she had begun to master the green magics that ran deep within her bloodline.
Jupiter was their most recent acquisition, a juvenile Triton expelled from the deep reefs. She had clung to a rocky shoreline for the better part of two days before she was spotted by the returning Karyth Delta. Livesey had nursed her back to health and upon learning of her impeccable ability to decipher men's star charts, Physalia offered her a permanent position as her navigator. Being podless herself, the captain knew all too well how lonely the seas could be.
Tendrils of fog began to swirl as the preparatory orders went out and Physalia shook herself from her reverie to give Jupiter their heading. After that, the ship fell silent.
Atoll flew high overhead, out of the fog and towards their target. Far below beneath the waves, N'inesmuch and a few other crew members sped along in the form of sleek sharks or dolphins. Broadside paced the deck, sharpening his handaxe absently. The waiting was always the hardest part of any raid, but Captain Physalia preferred to have any and all advantages she could get. Added onto that was the benefit of knowing for certain that this was indeed the vessel of the flesh peddling captain.
/x\
The fog rolled in thick off the coast of Karyth, like it always did before the first storms of autumn. This wouldn't be particularly concerning aside from the fact that it was early spring. The young captain squinted upwards, pulling the collar of his peacoat a bit tighter around his throat.
It was a moonless night and the wind was faint, leaving the ship barely in motion through the dense miasma. "Helmsman, steady on." The captain called, trying not to let his nerves show.
Even if he was putting on a brave face, the same could not be said for the rest of his crew. They had been sullen all day, watching the waters with large, wary eyes. The more superstitious of them spoke in hushed tones of the Kraken, the many-armed Hafgufa and his terrible brother Lyngbakr, the impostor island who lured sailors to their doom.
Never mind that everyone was on edge due to them needing to jettison a majority of their plundered cargo so the overloaded ship would not sink in the squall they had run into. The storm had blown them a bit off course, further south than anyone would care to be. It was easy enough to dismiss such things as old wives tales during the bright light of day, but now the captain found himself at odds with what he sincerely hoped was his own imagination.
The vessel was still in deep waters, too far out from Karyth and the small belt of islands that it wore like a crown to be concerned about running aground. Yet he swore he heard the soft crashing of waves upon the shoreline.
He realized his mistake a bit too late to save them, regrettably.
An impact echoed from the prow of the ship and there was a loud cry that went up, "beast sighted!" The captain swung around, seizing one of the shuttered lanterns and raising it high as he heard the sounds of a short-lived scuffle break out. The light reflected off the fog, casting disorienting shapes in the black.
A shadow rose up, up, up, and a pitiful curse left the captain's lips when he caught sight of the massive, steer-like horns. The creature towered over him, looming luminous gray out of the fog with a devastating-looking handaxe gripped in one massive paw. Every man on deck was frozen, simply staring at this...hulking apparition.
"I seek your captain, boy." The creature spoke after a moment, its voice a rumbling threat. "Be a good lad and fetch them for me, would you?"
At that, the captain bristled. Drawing himself up to his inconsequential full height, he spat, "I wear my rank upon my shoulder, sirrah, and I see no such rank upon your own! Who's asking for the captain?"
"I am." The beast snarled, and the captain's burst of courage flagged almost immediately. "You're the captain? Suppose I should have expected it, you standin' there all puffed up like a peacock." It sighed heavily after a moment, nonchalantly pitching the axe to bury itself in the main mast just above the captain's head. "Disappointing."
The captain found himself abruptly snatched up by the collar of his jacket, dangling helplessly a foot or so off the deck as his men gawked. The creature was even more terrifying up close, pointed incisors sharpening its smile to a hungry leer.
"My boss seeks permission to come aboard your vessel, flesh peddler." It didn't seem to have any other tone aside from rumble. "I'd advise you to acquiesce before I snap your neck."
A new form solidified out of the fog behind the brute, one hand resting on the large creature's shoulder. It was a female, one of the sea folk. Triton or Mer the young captain could not say, they all looked grotesque to him.
The man opened his mouth to speak and the fish woman snapped her teeth at him. "Captain whelp." She addressed him through those sharp teeth. "Flesh dealer, human trader. Was it you and your sailors that sacked and pillaged the peninsula?"
"And what authority do you wield, sea beast?" The young captain retorted, a little taken aback that she knew of his ship and their shady dealings. But how? The Governess Of Bresh had a clean bill of sale and no record of unsavory practices! Even if this fish woman fancied herself an inquisitor of some kind, they had tossed all of the human cargo during the storm. She had no evidence! "Your behavior is absolutely piratical, and if you do not depart my ship at once I'll see you brought before the assizes!"
There was nothing but a breath and suddenly the woman's hands were wrapped around his throat. He hadn't even seen her cross the deck-!
"We will try again." She hissed in his face as he struggled against her hold. Her palms, cold and covered in a fine mesh of scales, heated briefly. "Was it you and your sailors that sacked and pillaged the peninsula?"
The captain opened his mouth to lie and instead the truth fell out. "Yes." The woman smiled slowly, sending a cold chill of certainty down his spine. "You're the captain of the Verdant Keen, aren't you?" He asked, muted horror washing over him. "The witch who stalks the Kraken's hunting grounds?"
"A witch, he calls me. But then, you men have many names for myself and my ship. You and your kind are warned off from this place, are you not? At your own peril, they mutter in port." The woman mused, her chuckle devoid of mirth. "You are very lucky that we were following you in the first place. I can only imagine how many more souls would be waiting to drag you down to the hells had we not collected your...abandoned spoils." Pitch black, fathomless eyes bored into his own. "This ship is ours now, whelp, and the fate of your men belongs to the sea."
"What?! That is inhumane, you cannot-"
"Inhumane?" The woman seethed, "or monstrous? Perhaps vile? Unbearable, unconscionable, barbaric? Tell me, flesh peddler, how many women have you widowed? How many children have you stolen from their homes? How humanely have you behaved, o righteous mariner?" She leaned in close, her grip tightening on his throat. "You are compelled to tell the truth at this point in time, Whelp Captain. Squirm all you want. Tell me who sent you."
The confession surged at his tongue, the young man pressing his lips together tightly to keep from revealing who his employer was.
The witch sighed heavily after a moment. "Broadside?"
"You want me to separate his head from his shoulders, boss?" The horned creature queried, cracking his knuckles before addressing the young captain. "You can either open your mouth or I'll rip your jaw off. No matter what you're dead, so it's understandable if you don't want to speak up. I don't blame you." His tone had gone alarmingly friendly. The captain got a sinking feeling in his gut even as he shook his head. "Right! I'll make it quick." The gray beast rumbled cheerily.
/x\
N'inesmuch had everything documented within two hours, the Governess Of Bresh stripped to her bare bones. The crew had all fled after their captain met his untimely demise, and if the waters churned a bit more aggressively than before, well…
Such was the nature of the sea.
Physalia and Atoll folded the last of the spare sails, the captain offering her first mate a weary half-smile. "It is good, yes?"
"You are too lenient." Atoll sniffed, their long-standing argument reignited once more. "Leaving them to the sea is too merciful. We should have tied them all to the mast before we set the craft ablaze." Her purple eyes sparkled like she was telling a joke and Physalia was reminded once more that Merfolk partook in certain diversions that Tritons did not.
"I am not a tyrant." The captain replied calmly. "Land is not far from here. Allowing someone to live is often a far better form of punishment." She leaned in, idly gathering Atoll's messy curls back from her face and fashioning them into a quick braid. "Killing them outright would have been the lenient option, my merciful first mate."
Atoll huffed, crossing her arms. A purple flush dusted her cheeks. "Oh, very well Captain. I suppose you could be right." She allowed after several moments. "Besides, we've gotten what we came for. That's all that matters."
"Aye." Physalia murmured, watching Broadside scoop the body of the arrogant young captain up and deposit it over the railing. "Lara and the others will be pleased to have their valuables back, I'm certain. Though it will not cure the loss of their homes, husbands or sons, they can rebuild." The crest that ran down the center of her head began to flare upwards once more. "And I will not allow such a thing to happen again." She muttered through her teeth.
"We will not, you mean." Atoll corrected.
Physalia inclined her head. "Of course, forgive me. We will not."
/x\
The flames that devoured the Governess Of Bresh lit the horizon long after the ship itself had faded into the distance. Captain Physalia stood beside Jupiter at the helm, her thoughts miles away. Belowdecks she could faintly hear Lara squeaking with delight as she helped N'inesmuch sort through their spoils.
The Governess had carried a great deal of foodstuffs as well as the ill-gotten gains they had pilfered from the peninsula. Far more food than they would have needed were this not a planned endeavor. Physalia had hoped against hope that they had simply been men who made a single terrible choice, but the amount of supplies they carried pointed to premeditation.
That complicated things. More would come. And if more came...
The captain's brow furrowed. More traffic, more ships, more activity would certainly stir the leviathan from its centuries of lethargy. A freshly-roused Kraken was good news for no one.
She shook her head after a moment. They would just need to be more vigilant, that was all. They could still put an end to the new trade routes. There was still time.
"Everything alright, Captain?" Jupiter asked cautiously.
Physalia mustered up her usual half-smile, tilting her head. "Don't fret, Jupiter. Your captain is prone to brooding." She said by way of apology. "You have our heading. I trust you'll bring us safely home?"
Jupiter fairly beamed. "Absolutely, Captain!"