Prompt #5 - Show of Hands
Cask and Flagon
Outer Docks, Limsa Lominsa Lower Decks
Late 1571
“So, here’s the plan. Listen good, ye sods, cause I’m not gonna repeat it.”
Safely ensconced in the back room he’d paid good gil for in the back room of a seedy bar so far on the outskirts of Limsa Lominsa’s docks that it barely still counted as being inside the city, Captain Swyrsath Swyrsathsyn paused to let the serving girl the bar’s nervous owner had provided him, a miqo’te girl tiny even by miqo’te standards, refill his drink. The strawberry-blonde Seeker ducked her head with a respectful level of fear as she poured this time, and he forewent smacking her as reward. He liked it when people learned quickly.
“Me sources tell me th’ *Admiral* -” he paused here for the inevitable chorus of various derisive and hateful noises at the name-dropping of the hated Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn- “is plannin’ ter solidify ‘er power base in th’ next few months by raisin’ a bloody Grand Company. Bringin’ her scrags an’ uniforms under th’ same banner requires ‘er ter bring in shipments o’ standard issue gear. Muskets, clothin’, even some artillery.”
Swyrsath continued his explanation and, ultimately, forgot the miqo’te waitress was even there as he ran through the list of what they’d need to do. His source had informed him there was a shipment they’d be able to cut off on its way to put in at the naval shipyard in Moraby Bay-
"Excuse me,” the waitress chirped.
The room’s occupants rustled with surprise that turned to yells when they realized she was standing at the door, the captain’s own musket trained on him with one hand, the other holding a Navy-issue grenade.
“What’s goin’ on here,” Swyrsath blustered, taking a faltering step toward her and coming to a stop as she flicked the hammers on his gun back. “I-”
“Captain Swyrsath Swyrsathsyn, by order of the Admiral, you are served and bound.” The barrel of the gun that now belonged to the suddenly-bubbly miqo’te twitched toward the door. “And your contract only specifies preferably alive, so if you wouldn’t mind?”
One of his crew started to lurch to his feet, and the blonde girl clicked her tongue in warning, then brought the grenade - a common model in use by Naval Intelligence’s bounty hunters that could be ignited simply by pulling free a flint that would ignite the length of fuse taped to the side - closer to her teeth, where she could light it with a simple yank. “Sit yourselves back down and- actually, you know what? Show me your hands, just to be sure.”
Once they’d all settled down and hands were safely displayed away from concealed blades and illegal firearms, she twitched the gun toward the door meaningfully again. “Captain?”
He stumbled toward the door, and she kept just outside of his massive Roegadyn armspan as he did so. Enormous shoulders sagged. She knew what she was doing, he wasn’t going to get out of this without eating a bullet.
As soon as he was clear and far enough ahead of her that she had a spare second to react if he tried anything, she flashed the stunned, silent pirate crew a bright grin, bit down on the flint pull, gave a yank, tossed the grenade into the room, and slammed the thick oak door shut. “Bye!”
The stunned silence continued for a moment, followed by muffled shouting and then an explosion that cracked the door. Dust billowed.
“No!” Swersath shouted, lurching a step in her direction until the looming barrel of the gun once more brought him to a halt. “Who the bloody hell are you?”
She flashed him a sunny smile and gestured for him to start walking again, towards a swarm of Yellowjackets congregating on the dock outside. “I’m E’yline. Nice to meet you.”