I can weather any storm

Captain Jocelyn Uriel "Nautical acquisition and redistribution specialist" Pirate through and through. this is a sideblog and thusly cannot follow back. I follow from hoistingcolours

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

‘You’re going to poach her from me, are you?’

The calm amusement remained in R’khan’s eyes, even as his crew barged in, chattering amongst themselves, and organised a team to lift the treasure out under the watchful eyes of Vilayn and Azareth. It could almost have been a coincidence that R’khan waited until his first mate was at his shoulder to add,

‘Mistress Willa is sailing with me crew on a voluntary basis, that’s correct. But if she’s on my ship, she’s my responsibility, and I ain’t got no plans to lead her into danger. If she decides she wants to risk it, now that’s her prerogative.’

‘Relkhan?’

‘Mister Vilayn.’

‘We’ve checked the wounded. Two killed in our crew, Mister Bendraal and Mistress Doleth, ordinary seamen. A few major injuries among the rest but nothing Rosie can’t fix on those. I’ve ordered a pyre to be set up in the central courtyard for the casualties.’

‘Very good. I will be with you presently.’ As Vilayn hurried off again, his expression wooden, R’khan nodded politely to Jocelyn. ‘Shall we? We can continue our little discussion later.’

“Poach her from you?” She made a face as if the question had offended her. “I’m no fool, R’khan. I know she won’t sail with me so long as you have Pretty Boy at your heel,” she motioned to Vilayn without shame or reservations. “My concern is that she doesn’t have the same protection as the rest of your crew who have signed your articles. At present, there really isn’t anything preventing you from, say.. selling her or using her as a bargaining chip,” Jocelyn said, keeping her eyes on the two Dunmer as her expression hardened slightly.

“You once told me you like gold and riches, so let me make myself inescapably clear. Selling Willa might make you filthy rich, but I’ll personally see to it that those will be the last septims your grubby little fingers will ever touch,” the captain stated, unflinching and unmoving, looking from R’khan to Vilayn “Willa might be sailing with you on a voluntary basis, but you will treat her right or you’ll have me to answe to, and that goes for both of you.”

Now that Jocelyn had said her piece she didn’t wait around for either the captain nor the first mate to start and argument on the matter, and simply pushed past her men to get to the door.

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therunawayscamp

Vilayn groaned again and reached for the mazte. The hackle-lo twisted between his fingers.

‘If you weren’t supposed to tell me about this, how am I going to raise it with her without her realising who told me?’ he asked, after swallowing a considerable amount of the bottle’s contents. He raised the hackle-lo to his lips again and left it there for a moment afterwards, savouring the smoke. ‘Never mind. It’s my problem, I know. I’ll sort it out.’

He half-turned in his chair, still holding the hackle-lo, to see what the crew were up to, and caught his first sight of Willa. The edges of his features softened and he stared a while longer before facing Jocelyn again and saying with renewed determination,

‘I’ll sort it out. I don’t know how, but I will.’

Jocelyn leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles under the table and folded her hands over her stomach. “You’re capable of thinking for yourself are you not?” She asked, obviously rhetorically, and raised a single eyebrow. “Just tell her you’ve been thinking about it for some time, make it seem like you came up with the idea. I heard you’re good at that,” she went on, and at the last little jab a lazy smirk stretched across her face.

Up until now Willa had been busy talking with the crew, leaning comfortably on the back of Drasonval’s chair, but it would seem that feeling the pair of eyes on the back of her head from across the room was enough to draw her attention. She turned slightly and caught Vilayn’s gaze, smiling warmly at him. She said something quick to the rest of the Scamps, presumably excusing herself, and made her way over towards the captain and first mate.

“Be sure that you do,” Jocelyn replied, and now with Willa approaching, she pushed her chair back. “Take good care of her,” she added with a firm pat on Vilayn’s shoulder as she walked past him, leaving him with Willa’s sole company.

“Hey..?” Willa greeted almost hesitantly, but still smiling. “What did she want with you? Don’t tell me she chewed you up and spat you back out.”

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therunawayscamp

The lack of a ferocious response, or even a sharp retort, caused Vilayn to widen his eyes in disbelief before he regained control of himself. What he was hearing now was more reassuring than the start of the conversation, if only by a small margin, and some of the tension dropped out of his shoulders when he was sure he wasn’t about to be rebuked. He took the hackle-lo gladly, even hungrily, and lit it with a tiny spark of magic fire from his fingertips, shielded by his other hand.

The smoke rolled out in a wave from his long, pinched nose as he sighed. By the time he spoke again it had dissolved into the air and his voice was more measured than it had been since they started talking.

‘I accept your point, serjo. I promise that Willa’s happiness is more important to me than my own desires, if only because seeing her happy is what makes me happy. It’s even more important to me than my own ego, believe it or not.’ He took another long drag on the hackle-lo, hoping the joke wouldn’t result in another tongue-lashing. 'As for the Spring, my husband wouldn’t let her do that, I assure you. And even if he would, I wouldn’t. Normally I’d say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, but that isn’t quite true. There is one thing, and that’s to make somebody else I love suffer. If anybody has to carry that burden it’ll be me.’

Jocelyn clouded herself in another puff of smoke, listening to what he was saying without feeling any pressing need to interrupt him.

“All due respect, friend, but I was not under the impression that she intended to ask you for permission,” she replied evenly. “She explicitly ask me not to tell you this, and maybe I shouldn’t have, but I need you to understand what lengths she’s willing to go for you and that not talking to her about your future together is no longer not an option. Like it or not, but you don’t have a choice,” Jocelyn continued and took another drag from the hackle-lo before she stumped out the rest.

“Right now I don’t think she sees a place for herself in your future, like she’s only there temporarily - if even in it at all. If you want this thing to last you need to help her see it differently, and that martyrdom - even if she means well - is a really shitty way to go.”

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It wasn’t that Vilayn hadn’t heard this before, from R’khan, from his husbands, from his own thoughts while he was lying awake at night. It wasn’t that Jocelyn was wrong, either. In fact, perhaps it was because the truth cut so close to the bone that he finally gave in to the building rage, his anger bristling through his tense shoulders and stony face.

‘So you and Willa can stick with someone to avoid facing any responsibility, because to you that time doesn’t matter, but because I’m – well, let’s not beat about the scathecraw here, because I’m mortal and going to die sooner rather than later, it’s my job to make the hard choices? Maybe you just have to wait for your partners to cross the bar when you get bored with them so you don’t have to make a difficult decision, but for me, I don’t treat it like that. My lovers aren’t just a– a minor inconvenience to me. I’ve told Willa everything you said. I’ve told her I’m selfish, that she could find better, all those things, and if I didn’t think we could make some kind of a future together I would do the right thing. I know I wouldn’t sit around waiting for her to die, even if I was immortal.’

He hadn’t noticed Willa behind them, too caught up in what Jocelyn was saying to pay attention to the crew any more. What finally calmed him down, apart from the natural loss of energy after such an outburst, was the nagging reminder that he was talking to a sea captain, someone who outranked him, and someone, moreover, whom R’khan had forbidden him from antagonising. He took a deep breath and focused on Jocelyn again, almost wincing to see what he reaction would be as he muttered,

'My apologies, serjo. I spoke out of turn. I didn’t mean that.’

The sudden outburst didn’t seem to affect Jocelyn much. In fact she almost seemed relieved, like she’d finally achieved what she wanted all along. “I told you you could speak freely, and I sure as shit hope you meant it,” She said with a casual shrug. She reached inside her coat and pulled out a small pouch of hackle-lo, holding it out towards him before she rolled up a leaf for herself.

“It’s not about avoiding responsibility or forcing you to make the hard choices. It’s about her valuing your bloody opinions more than her own happiness. Hell, even more than her damn life. That she ain’t important enough or that she can do better. You are the goddamn sun and moons to her, and I’m sure that if you told her to jump she’d ask how high,” Jocelyn replied, calmer now.

“She asked me about the Spring, you know. How it works, what it can be used for. Asked me if the rumors are true, and I told her that yes they are, but the Spring requires a price to be paid,” as she spoke hackle-lo smoke seeped out through her teeth and from her nostrils, like a slumbering dragon guarding vast amounts of treasure. “She also asked me if it’d work on curses. Now, I may not know a whole lot about your family situation, but I do know that your husband’s sick. Based on what Willa told me I’d say she’s looking for a way to use the Spring to transfer whatever ails him to herself, and she’d do it for you.”

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therunawayscamp

This was worse than joining the Navy now. This was reaching the same level as his officer’s exam, during which the captains on the board had been determined to fail him by any means possible. Vilayn listened with increasing discomfort, the bottle of mazte looking ever more tempting, until he reached out and drank for it. It didn’t help much. His stomach was pitching like the deck in a storm, and the addition of alcohol did nothing to calm it. He still had to endure Jocelyn’s rebukes anyway. When she leaned forwards, it took all of his willpower not to cower back, and perhaps that was why he was unable to hold back a bite of annoyance in his answer.

‘As I told you, serjo, I have no intention of hurting Willa, nor of running off on her. And as you told me, I’m not getting any younger. Having children isn’t always easy for mer, even in the prime of their life, so this whole scenario…’

Reason caught up with his mouth and he stopped for a moment. The curtain came back down behind his eyes and his lips pursed tightly.

‘If any of this should ever happen, serjo, I will discuss it with Willa, and act in her best interests,’ he finished. ‘Until then, with all due respect, I’m not sure what else I can say.’

“Discuss it with her, like you’re discussing it with me? Weaving words into a fog you can hide in so that you don’t have to face the shitstorm you have created?” She retorted and inclined her head slightly. “You have turned three lives upside down just because you didn’t have the will to say no and because you wanted more.”

Jocelyn caught a glimpse of something fiery red across the room, and a quick glance confirmed it to be Willa’s bouncing ponytail. For the time being she seemed occupied with the rest of the crew, but chances are it wouldn’t last long.

“The sad part is, I don’t think she’s even gonna tell you. She’ll just soldier on and postpone her own happiness for the sake of not hurting you,” Jocelyn concluded after downing the rest of her drink. “When you live forever, spending.. thirty-forty years with someone so you won’t have to break their heart is nothing - take it from someone who’s been there,” she went on to add almost flippantly before she leaned back and regarded him. “My question is, will you be able to let her go, so that she can pursue her happiness with someone else? Even push her away, to keep her happy, if you can’t give her what she wants and keep her happy?” The captain asked, folding her hands in front of herself.

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Vilayn was starting to feel much like he had done once, long ago, when he first signed on to the Morrowind Navy, when the officers aboard ship used to upbraid the young Outlander sailor for any perceived fault or slight they could think of. His face hardened, to hide his insides twisting and freezing. Another glance towards R’khan showed him that his captain was still intent on leaving him to Jocelyn’s mercy, but he was, at least, keeping the crew distracted from their superior officer’s humiliation.

Still, the familiarity of the situation meant Vilayn was well-prepared. Jocelyn’s penetrating glare wasn’t a million miles away from how his own superiors had once looked at him. Unmoving and – he hoped, although he rather doubted it – unreadable, he answered with the same emotionless formality he had maintained so far,

‘Understood, serjo. Will there be anything else?’

Jocelyn regarded him quietly over the top of her bottle, and the slight furrow of her brow knitted closer. “This here is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said and motioned to him. “You don’t even have the balls to talk to me without putting up a front, and I’m not the one you’ve been fucking. I’m not the one you’ll end up hurting if you continue acting like a goddamn clown,” she let out a wry, humorless chuckle.

If nothing she had said yet had provoked a proper response from him, and not this calculated mask he was hiding behind, perhaps antagonizing him would. “What happens the day Willa says she wants more? More than you might be willing or ready to give her - more than you might want yourself. What are you gonna do if you knock her up and she decides she wants to keep the child, or if she tells you she wants to start a family with your sorry ass? You gonna run off on her? Just ditch her and move on to the next mermaid in line because she’s become more trouble than she’s worth?” She leaned forward on her elbows.

“Look at me,” she demanded with a surprising softness, but left no room for negotiations.

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therunawayscamp

Jocelyn’s words echoed those his husbands had spoken, more than once now. Putting himself and his desires before the people around him. Making those he cared about the second consideration. Second choice. Second best. Vilayn had never thought of Willa in those terms, not for a moment, but he had seen the truth of the matter before now and didn’t welcome the harsh reminder.

Admitting as much to Jocelyn’s face was impossible on multiple levels, not least because Vilayn could feel the captain watching him from the corner of his eye and knew that if R’khan caught anyone antagonising the Tempest, he would give Jocelyn’s fury a run for its money. The best Vilayn could do was force his hands to still and his eyes to meet Jocelyn’s without looking at her. Polite, cold, and clipped, that was the way. Imagine Jocelyn not as Willa’s sister or the Tempest, but as another sailor in the Navy, one who happened to outrank him no matter what he thought of her.

‘Thank you for your advice, serjo, and I promise I’ll bear it in mind, to be sure. I promise you that Willa’s happiness is of great importance to me.’

She noticed the faraway look in his eyes, and a part of her wanted to make him snap out of it. To yank him out from whatever hole he was hiding in by the hair on his head. After having regarded him for a moment she did no such thing.

“You think this is advice?” She asked, and it was a genuine inquiry, and tilted her head. “If I was giving you advice - and you should listen to it too - I would tell you to talk to her and man the fuck up. To stop running from complications, because guess what buddy, you’re smack dab in the middle of one,” she said and punctuated her statement with another swig.

“What this is, is just a friendly reminder that I’m watching you, and unlike mom I don’t owe you shit.”

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therunawayscamp

The greatest concern Vilayn betrayed was a glance over his shoulder towards the captain, who, rather than sweeping over to his friend’s aid, was chatting happily away to Tosti. He could have been completely oblivious, had he not caught Vilayn’s eye at the last moment and, upon realising he was being stared at, given a perky wave. There was no help coming from that quarter. Vilayn would have to face Jocelyn’s interrogation by himself.

He lowered himself stiffly into the chair on the opposite side of the table and reached for the mazte, to show willing. After only one swig, he put it back on the table and moved his hands away from it, back onto his knees, where they beat out a steady tattoo as he listened to Jocelyn.

Considering the weight behind it, he bore her gaze well. His feet shuffled a little on the floor, his drumming fingers drummed a bit harder, but he wouldn’t let himself look away, even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach and went crawling away across the floor. After a moment to make sure she had finished and definitely not because he had to fight away a cold sweat, he said, in a professional and detached tone,

‘Permission to speak freely, serjo, if you’ll pardon my impertinence? We’ve only just worked out what happens now, so we haven’t had much time to think about what happens next.’ He swallowed, hoping what he was saying would make his point without offending Jocelyn. ‘But if Willa has any worries, she knows she only has to talk to me. I hope that satisfies you.’

It would seem that Jocelyn wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answer, but not displeased either. “It doesn’t, but of course you may speak freely. There’d be little point in having a chat with you if you’re not going to talk back - or worse, lie,” she told him almost matter-of-factly. She took another swing of her drink, seemingly washing away a few less kind words before she continued,

“See, that’s what has me concerned. I don’t think she knows that, and honestly, deep down, I don’t think you mean it. To some lesser extent perhaps, but with the way she was weaseled out of answering my questions I reckon she’s scared,” she said evenly. “I think there are topics she won’t talk to you about, not even at knifepoint, because she’s scared. Scared of what you’ll say, what you’ll think. What your husbands will think. The captain. I reckon she believes she has more to lose by telling you than by shutting up,” Jocelyn spoke in a calm manner, using the table in front of her to gesticulate and emphasize her points by tapping her fingers on it.

“Now, if you two are just... enjoying each other’s company and take fun where you can find it, that’s all well and good and I’m sorry for wasting your time, but,” she leveled another stare and pointed a finger at him, “if this thing between the two of you is as serious as she makes it seem, then you got to get your head out of your ass, because she shouldn’t have to settle for half measures and sacrifice her own happiness to appease you.”

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“Vilayn,” Jocelyn called from her somewhat secluded spot of the cornerclub and beckoned him over by waving her fingers. “You got a moment? Because I have a few choice words and some questions for you.” (Does this count as making him squirm? XD)

The fiddle stopped mid-tune with a screech as Vilayn jumped but, aside from the initial shock, he thought he handled such a foreboding summons rather well. He lowered his instrument and strode over with his face blank, masking any emotion, a trick he had found useful in dealing with captains other than his own. Once he was stood before Jocelyn he raised a hand in salute and stood so stiffly he might as well have been at attention on deck.

‘Yes, Relkhan Jocelyn?’

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While her eyes remained firmly locked on him she motioned to the chair across from herself with her hand. “Take a seat,” she said in a polite enough manner. “I just want to talk,” she told him, and as if to drive the point home she slid a bottle of mazte across the table as a proverbial peace offering. “I doubt you’ll like what I have to say, but really, I do just want to talk.”

She sat back, her butt on the very edge of the chair, making her slouch slightly and she folded her hands over her stomach. “You see, I spent some time with Willa yesterday and we got to talking,” Jocelyn began, gaze never leaving Vilayn - a gaze which had nearly made lesser men wet themselves - and inclined her head slightly. “Most of it doesn’t really concerns you, but some of the things she said got me real curious.”

For the first time since he’d come over, Jocelyn turned her eyes away and focused briefly on the task of taking a generous swing of her own drink. “I’m not one for beating around the bush, so you’ll have to forgive my courseness, but have you talked to her about what happens next with the two of you?” She let the bottle rest on her stomach while her fingers drummed against the glass. “You’re... not exactly young anymore. You’re happily married and I reckon you haven’t fathered any children - at least that you know of - and according to Willa you have no interest in suddenly doing so either,” she chose to let that sink in for a few seconds, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, and her gaze landed on him again like a lead weight.

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

‘In that case, sera, it’d be a case of got to, wouldn’t it? Seems to me, if I goes after ‘em I’m throwin’ Willa into danger needlessly. You said yourself we didn’t sign up to be part of your crusade, so you manage your crew, and I’ll manage mine.’

Most of this was said in a mild, level tone while Jocelyn was leaving. If she had turned, the most she might have seen was a steely glint of something in R’khan’s eyes – not annoyance, though. Something more like amusement. He remained sat comfortably on his chest, contemplating the corridor thoughtfully, until Azareth and a contingent of the crew arrived to start hauling out the contents of the treasury.

Jocelyn stopped at the treshold to the vault, holding the frame firmly with one hand. “An interesting turn of phrase,” she noted with an assumed calm as she turned to look over her shoulder, furwwoing her brows slightly. 

“You’re right. I’ll manage my crew, and I suspect you can manage yours, but... Willa isn’t actually a part of your crew, is she?” Jocelyn inquired, and she did it in such a way that made it seem like she was telling him rather than asking him. It didn’t take a genius to know where this line of questioning would end up, judging by the unrelenting stare that had landed on him, taking note of every little twitch of muscles as she studied him.

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

‘Damn right it ain’t. You may have noticed that obedience and compliance ain’t exactly my style, muthsera, but it don’t make no odds to me whether I’m disobeyin’ the Empire or this cabal or the Mad God Sheog. There’s always going to be somebody who don’t like what I do, so why pick fights with ‘em unless I got to? I certainly ain’t joinin’ some noble crusade to take ‘em down. Ain’t my job.’

For all his insistent denial of interest, R’khan did seem pleased with Jocelyn’s response, if only for her acknowledgement that this was none of his business. He pushed himself up from the chest, had a last look at the chest of Eclipse memorabilia, and nodded.

‘You take what you wants. There’s enough here to keep me crew happy without you payin’ for it.’

Jocelyn remained quiet for a moment longer, but the way she looked at him made it clear that she was just momentarily biting her tongue. She closed the lid on the chest of cult stuff, and while her hands remained gripping the side she said,

“What about Willa, then? She none of your business too?” She slowly lifted her gaze, one which was maddeningly unreadable. “If they find out she’s with you, you know they’ll come looking for her, right?” She added as she straightened up.

By then, before Jocelyn could go so far as to directly threaten R’khan, Kade had gone looking for his captain and now stood in the doorway. “Captain?” He said, causing Jocelyn to turn her head towards him.

“Round up a couple of men and have them carry this back to the Stormbreaker,” she ordered, and with that she seemed content to leave the Dunmer captain to inspect his spoils more closely alone.

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

R’khan sat down on a second chest and crossed one knee across the other, listening with interest. There were plenty of questions he would have liked to ask, but since he suspected most of them would end with Jocelyn’s sword through his chest, he kept his mouth shut and noted down his queries for later. Only when she had finished and he had thought over his responses did he venture,

‘Big operation. Ain’t surprised they got people in the EEC, obedience and compliance has always been their hardline.’

He dug into the chest Jocelyn was studying himself. His hand came out with one of the vials, deceptively pretty with its multifaceted sides considering what it was used for. After studying it for a second, letting its faces catch the eerie green light, he dropped it and let it smash across the flagstones.

‘You going to do anything about ‘em?’ he asked, quite casually, after the ringing shatter had died away. ‘You don’t seem the type to take this lyin’ down.’

Jocelyn’s gaze followed the vial he was investigating all the way to its demise on the stone floor. She stared at the shattered fragments for a few seconds before she scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the crate.

“You say that like I have been sitting on my hands this entire time. The problem is that they grow out new heads faster than I can chop them off, like some damn mythical hydra,” she replied more evenly now, seemingly calming down from her outburst. “This is fucking personal, and not a part of our deal. Your men didn’t sign up to join my crusade, so the plan remains the same, seeing as we still have two more forts to deal with. Hopefully it’ll dredge up some new leads about these fucking cultists.” 

She pushed herself away from the crate before pointing towards it  “May I keep this? I’ll even be willing to pay for it to make up for the loss.”

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

R’khan and Azareth exchanged glances. This level of rage was not the sort which took well to interruptions, in their experience, but some kind of comment was required before any more of the haul was smashed to pieces. Eventually R’khan settled on nodding to the door and muttering,

‘Go see if the crew are ready to start carrying this lot out. We’ll check it as we go.’ 

 Azareth saluted and sloped out of the vault, his footsteps echoing away down the passage. It left R’khan to face Jocelyn’s fury alone. He plucked his sleeve away from the slice on his arm, casual, nonchalant, and cleared his throat, doing his best to strike up a conversation while he picked through the other treasures, as if this were all perfectly normal.

‘This Order… they ain’t anything to do with them Eclipse people Willa and Carina are worried about, are they?’ he asked. ‘Don’t know much about ‘em meself, but Vilayn’s made me promise that if we see ‘em, we kill ‘em. And you know what they says, muthsera. A problem shared is a problem halved, or summat like that.’

To leave Jocelyn to cool off on her own had been the wisest decision they could have made, and by the time Azareth had left and R’khan asked about the object of her fury she had mostly calmed down - enough at least to keep from damaging anything else in the room. 

“They’re one and the same,” she replied, sheathing her sword with practiced ease. “They call themselves the Order of the Eclipse, and they’re a fanatical cult that’s been around for god knows how long. They claim to be wanting order -aboslute obedience and compliance - and they’re using any means to get it. At first I thought there were little more than glorified bandits, but the bastards have their hands in every goddamn governing pie in Tamriel,” she began to explain, raking a hand through her hair as she stretched her back.  

“The wankstains that are hunting mermaids is just a small branch of a massive, secretive cabal. They have spies and informants everywhere - even in the EEC it would seem,” she continued and snatched up one of the sheathed silver daggers from the crate and tossed it at R’khan for closer inspection. “They have it all here. Vials for water and capsules for harvested tears. Silver shackles to ensure the mermaids can’t get away. Torches and burning oils to get’em to do whatever they want. Journals...” her face twisted into a grimace as she picked up one of the leatherbound books, unwrapped the cord and began flipping through the pages. Grim sketches of mermaid anatomy and experiements greeted her from the yellowed paper and her scowl deepened with every turn of the page. 

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

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therunawayscamp

R’khan tossed the key in his palm and led the way down the passage. Beside him, Azareth, bald and somehow smaller without his hat, strode with his arms crossed and a stony expression, which he managed to maintain right up until they opened the door. Then there was a twitch. Just a twitch.

Various treasures had been collected together on Stirk thoughout its history as a bolthole for vagabonds, all of which, along with anything of Ayleid origin which looked shiny enough, the new authorities had collected and moved to the vault. Bright blue stones were illuminated by some kind of ancient energy and cast a spectral glow over the contents, turning the gold green and creating soft, shifting shadows between the chests and boxes. R’khan picked up a silver chain and let it run through his fingers. 

‘Nice. Very nice. Don’t expect we’ll find quite so much in the others. Anything catch your eye, muthsera?’

Jocelyn followed the pair down the corridor, stopping only to let R’khan and Azareth walk into the vault first once the door had been opened. When prompted, she stepped towards the center of the room to get a better look at everything. “I suppose I’d be able to find something, given enough... time,”  she said, eyes roving over golden idols and weapons until she spotted a crate. She visibly bristled and didn’t even turn to look at either of the two Dunmer before she strode towards it with a hatefilled determination. The crate she had her eyes on didn’t look like much, and the only distiguishable feature it had was a black circle with a halo on the side.  

She drew her bloodstained sword and used the hilt to smash the padlock on the lid before she threw it open. Inside was a small assortment of silver blades, flammable oils, pouches, jars, vials, and journals.The hand not holding her sword balled into a white-knuckle fist and she nearly slammed it into the crate, barely managing to step away from it in time to settle for an angry snarl and a string of curses.

“Those motherfucking Order fanatics, I swear, I’ll gut’em all fra prick to sternum and wear their guts as garters,” she practically growled, kicking the side of the crate hard enough to break through the wooden boards. 

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Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

[weatheranystorm]

therunawayscamp

Although a surrender was on the horizon, most of the Scamps used the momentary distraction of Jocelyn’s appearance to finish off their foe of the moment, plunging weapons into backs or sending shockwaves of magic through their opponent. The decapitation did give some of them pause, but most of the old hands watched with grim satisfaction as their flame cloaks simmered down. There were no more furtive stabs after the body slumped to the ground. Luca, who had been strictly forbidden from joining the fight and had therefore thrown herself into it with enthusiasm, wandered up to prod the head with a stick, but the crew took it in stride. Apart from some scuffling with prisoners, they fell to the task of rounding up the survivors obediently and, thanks to the barked orders from Vilayn, efficiently. Anyone injured and unable to help was ordered towards Rosie by Braskan.

R’khan’s first action was to shrug off his elaborate coat and hand it to Azareth, who had taken a position at his side in readiness for collecting their plunder. The captain’s shirt stuck to his skin, wet with both sweat and blood, and he was breathing heavily. He was grinning, too, even as he bled from a gash across his arm.

‘You sure you don’t want to come with for the first look? ‘Cause I ain’t going to ask twice. I’m only asking once ‘cause you did a damn good job out there.’

Mehran stuck a pair of fingers between his lips and whistled loudly for Aria and directed her to team up with Rosie and help with the injured, followed closely by Willa. Once the remains of the Company had been dealt with, most of Jocelyn’s crew seemed content with chatting with their counterparts among the Scamp’s crew. Daynillo in particular had gone over to stroke Oran’s ego, much to Rylen’s amusement. 

Jocelyn chose to keep her coat on, but undid the messy braid in her hair, fluffing it to air out some of the sweat along her scalp and splatter of blood in the tips. “Well, when you put it like that how can I refuse,” she drawled and allowed herself to drift towards him and offered him a lopsided smile. She followed him inside the keep and snatched the key up from the desk which she proceeded to hand to him. “Vault’s right over here,” she said with a smal nod in the direction of a passage in the corner of the office. 

[weatheranystorm]

Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

[weatheranystorm]

therunawayscamp

In the noise of tumbling rubble, the Runaway Scamp dropping anchor, and officers yelling inside the fort, it was impossible to make out precisely what Jocelyn was shouting. R’khan grinned all the same and drew his cutlass.

‘You gonna give the Stormbreaker all the glory, lads? Get in there!’

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Like the Scamps, Mehran had cloaked himself in flames and shaped them into devilish horns and whenever he opened his mouth flames appeared to be spilling out of him. 

Hearing R’khan’s voice over the shouts of combat, she swiftly made her way over to him, impaling a lone Company man that got in her way. “One!” she called back, turning just in time to deflect an incoming blow, then grabbed the scrawny kid by the neck. He couldn’t have been much older than Willa but that mattered little when Jocelyn effortlessly threw him across the cobblestone. 

From the corner of her eyes, she watched Kade run both of his cutlasses through the third officer, hoisting the man off the ground before dropping him like a sack of shit. 

“Make that two,” Jocelyn corrected herself and proceeded to usher R’khan up the stairs towards the commander’s office. Several of her men sensed the change in battle and gathered around her, following her up the stairs to keep the brunt of the fighting off the pair of captains. Once she finally reached the barricaded door at the uppermost level of the fort, she raised her boot-clad foot and kicked it in, splintering the wood around the lock. 

“Knock knock,” she taunted, causing the man cowering behind his desk to jump in his seat. 

“L-listen, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” the Imperial stammered with both hands raised in surrender. “You want gold? We have lots of gold here. Just take it.”

Jocelyn had been slowly pacing towards him ever since he started talking, and now she stood directly across him with only the desk between them. The Imperial whimpered under her predatory gaze and visibly shrunk in his seat when she slowly reached out towards him. “Get up,” she demanded and promptly yanked him out of his chair and over the desk, scattering the papers and sending the inkwell flying. 

She proceeded to drag him outside by the scruff of his shirt, and he was frantically kicking and screaming to no avail. He proceeded to plead for her to stop, for mercy, for anything that he thought might make her stop and change her mind. It didn’t work. Jocelyn brought him to the edge of the uppermost level and set her foot at the back of his legs, dropping him onto his knees at the very edge. 

Below them, several of the fort’s men had caught sight of what was going on, and those not currently engaged in combat with pirates had turned their gazes skyward. Jocelyn spared R’khan a final glance before she swung her cutlass in a wide and precise arc towards the commander’s neck. The sharp edge of the blade combined with her strength effortlessly severed the head from the body which proceeded to topple over the edge and fall towards the ground with a sickening splat. The men below who had witnessed it all dropped their swords as a collective gasp spread throughout the men. With an unceremonious kick, Jocelyn lobbed the head off the platform, drawing startled shouts from the men below. The fight was officially over. 

“Mister Mehran?” she turned slightly and looked over her shoulder. 

“Aye, captain?”

“Round up the rest and throw’em in the hole. The fort is ours,” she declared evenly. When she turned and faced R’khan she offered him a small smile and patted his shoulder in a companionable way. “You should go have a look in the treasury. I suspect you won’t be disappointed.” 

[weatheranystorm]

Take What Is Ours [The Runaway Scamp/The Stormbreaker]

[weatheranystorm]

therunawayscamp

The Runaway Scamp moved almost silently through the cover of the fog, apart from the creak of the hull or straining ropes. None of her lanterns were lit. Commands were passed in low voices from quarterdeck to main deck via the medium of Vilayn, who pattered between the two with a light step, while Braskan stood belowdecks with Oran, waiting for the signal. This was a far different crew to the one which wreaked merry havoc on taverns across Tamriel. They were quiet, ready, and obedient, waiting with grim faces, some peering through the fog for the fort, some glancing at shipmates for silent reassurance. Nobody, from Zannammu up the mainmast to Rosie waiting in her makeshift surgery for the wounded to start pouring in, could relax.

Only R’khan, his head tilting between the black sails and the lights ahead, seemed at ease. He was wearing the same outfit as when he was introduced to Jocelyn, but now the coat was heavy with blades, as much for effect as practical use, and it covered a layer of leather armour. Smears of ash across his grey face gave him a grotesque expression even when he was smiling. He eased himself back and forth on his legs in time with the rocking of the deck. When the flash came from the lantern, he only had to nod once. Every person on the ship was watching him, and Vilayn hardly had to give the order to fire.

It raced through the vessel like an electric current and reached Braskan below in a matter of seconds. He smacked Oran on the back, surveying the assortment of mages waiting at the ports.

‘Less’ give ‘em hell, me lads.’

The fire which filled the magedeck was blinding after the darkness they had sailed in. It was soon engulfed in smoke, as the blast of magic hurtled across the ocean, reflected a bloody red in the water, and smashed against the eastern tower moments after the Stormbreaker’s broadside. A second round was hot on its heels, this one commanded by Vilayn and Ethysil on the main deck, and the combined firepower tore a split down the centre of the tower. Not enough to destroy the second trebuchet, not yet. R’khan bellowed into the darkness.

‘Mister Vilayn! Mistress Carina! Bring us round two points to starboard, give us more sea room! Don’t let ‘em get a fix on us!’

‘Aye-aye, Relkhan!’

While the brig heaved round, the mages prepared their second blast. With less time to prepare and with their vessel on the move, not all of the spells hit their target, but Oran’s magic streaked forwards like a comet and ripped the roof from the tower. It left the trebuchet exposed for Ethysil’s second round, and this time they caught the weapon, destroying both it and several of the people manning it.

Carina worked alongside Vilayn and the crew, calling out windspeed and direction as she changed it, giving the men a chance to act ahead of time and get the most out of her assistance. In the meantime the Stormbreaker lined up for another broadside, and Jocelyn gave Daynillo the order to tear down the walls. They managed to land a few more good hits to the front wall of the fort before they received any kind of fire in return. 

With the trebuchets disabled, all they had to do now was to get out of range and hammer them hard into submission, and that was exactly what Jocelyn intended to do. Thanks to their training together on the beach earlier that day, they had come up with a plan on how to take down the fort as quickly as possible. Daynillo and her fellow mages concentrated their fire on key points of the structure, weakening it, and before long one of Oran’s massive fireballs - at least she thought it was Oran’s - blew in the entire wall and took out most of the men in the courtyard along with it. 

Jocelyn wanted this fight over with as soon as possible, knowing that drawing it out would only work against them. “Get ready to go ashore, lads! The fort is as good as ours!” she bellowed out across the deck. The Stormbreaker drew closer to the fort until she was finally close enough to dock and let the crew spill out onto the beach. Jocelyn led the party up towards the gates of the fort and with a finaly barrage of fireballs from Daynillo the wood gave in and blew away. She raised her cutlass and the men charged into the fray, hollering and roaring as they engaged the Company in combat with swords and spells. 

There was a loud, sizzling crackle emanating from Jocelyn’s right hand, and a white-blue bolt of lightning shot out from her hand, passing through the nearest five Company men. On the opposite end of the courtyard, one of the officers was promptly cut down by T’jaka.