Black White and Shades of Greyy

by ElissaBeth Frear

  Well after the last watch “Vharcan” moored into Port Bistrot forcing them to remain on their vessel until morning. There was a strict edict on closing the gates at curfew and expressly stated absolutely no outside visitors allowed in town after the final bell was rung. This was fiercely enforced especially when the Pirate Regatta ran. The Regatta brought unwanted attention to the town that already had a negative reputation.

  Safely inside the town limits hugging shadows Donny Porter anxiously scurried to the Pub hoping to find his crew sitting at the bar drinking and regaling the citizens of their antics at sea. He smiled to himself remembering some of the more colorful tales and hoped to soon add more to the repertoire.

  When he rounded the corner and heard subdued laughter of the common townsfolk he knew the ship had not yet arrived. Saddened by the realization he continued inside with the notion of at least having one drink to pass the night.

  The room was full but only one in the midst told a tale. The Monk had returned and was sitting quietly poised on a barstool. He held his staff in one hand as much for support as for emphasis to the story, and the other he cradled a mug of ale gingerly taking sips as if kissing a lover.

  When Mr. Porter entered Sir Gil glanced and gave a little nod to the Pirate offering to buy another round for the newcomer.

  Chapter 161

  “Who are you?” is a question I get asked often. It is also a question for which I do not have a short answer. There have been many who have helped to shape the clay that has become the man before you. Great journeys and adventures have given me abilities and items of great importance, to me.” He said with a knowing grin to those who would seek to lighten his burden.

  “Even my name is not my own, but was given to me by another. I am Sir Gilead, the holder of the Baal Shemen, caregiver to the Light of Mercy and the Staff of Justice. All of these are fascinating tales and well worth the hearing. Yet it is not of these your questions you seek an answer.” He stated matter of fact his gaze boring straight through Donny Porter’s heart.

  “I think you wish to know the state of your Captain, young sir. Fear not she is well and moored outside the gates as we speak.”

  As the Monk spoke the words his amulet turned a dark hue of metallic gray and a hooded figure strode toward the door to leave. Most of the room failed to notice any change or anyone. It was common practice to keep one’s eyes low and deny any knowledge of surrounding occurrences. The less knowledge possessed the fewer problems could be blamed.

  Sir Gilead and Donny Porter however, noticed the tall cloaked figure and found his timing to leave oddly coincidental. They were both moving toward the door when a familiar character from the not so distant past strode in with a small band of musicians trailing behind him. The bard who had been seen from time to time throughout the lands had booked a performance at the hole in the wall pub stuck in the middle of Port Bistrot.

  The Pirate Regatta had brought him to every port on the course in hopes of finding his fleeting Captain Lady Love and if nothing more at least retrieving his favorite pair of pants. He strode over to the bar keep with an air of feigned confidence announcing the floorshow had arrived. With a laugh and a nod they were unceremoniously announced and allowed to play. As traveling minstrels jobs were difficult to find. Any excuse to show off their talents and perhaps be paid was sufficient reason to enter a pub. At times members would be fortunate enough to obtain full time gainful employment. Losing a member of the troupe was small price for fame and fortune.

  Long into the night the small band played. Their songs and melodies wafted on the breeze spreading through the town like a drop of ink in water. Greyy and several of her crew sat on the deck quietly listening to the music and speaking in hushed tones of future plans and recent events. There was far too much heat and pressure building within the Pirate ranks for them to complete the Regatta. They were forced pursue other forms of plunder.

  Chapter 162

  At dawn the gates to Port Bistrot were finally opened and the crew of “Vharcan” found themselves still in one piece and not overrun by enemy pirates or navy guards. They secured the vessel and stowed anything that would be considered contraband in secret stashes before lowering the gang plank and heading to town for some real food and a bath.

  Quietly dispersing through the town like water through the streets the Pirates went about their shore leave in an attempt at not drawing undo attention to their presence. Greyy and Kegan sought Mr. Porter for an update and to let him know of their disgrace within the Pirate clan. There was quite a bit that was in need of discussing and even more planning to hold fast to the toehold they held in the town.

  One of the other members of the crew; a rather unfortunate fellow named Jarvis grew tired of the curse the “Vharcan” rode under constantly. His heart ached to be rid of the darkness that covered them all and he was desperate for a solution. He hoped that there would be some answer in the Port or he was afraid he would go mad being forced any longer on that tiny ship.

  At the edge of town before the streets turn into the forest laid an ancient house rumored to house a fortune teller. Jarvis made his way to the house in hopes of answers to his current problem. He was certain that for a price there would be a way to break the curse on their ship and he would once again be able to enjoy peaceful life on land. There was a lovely girl he had met at one of the ports and he intended to return in order to find her.

  Just before he reached the house a tall dark figure crept from the shadows.

  “Oh, it’s you! Ye startled me wit’ all dat sneakin’ about ye do. Guess’n that be ye’r way.” He spoke into the shadow.

  The familiar Dark Elf he only knew as “Thief” stood in the darkness with a sly grin on his face and a plan for the fellow crewmate.

  “Get me back aboard and I will make it worth the while. I have heard of an amazingly simple plan for wealth beyond belief.” The Thief spoke with a silver tongue convincing Jarvis to arrange an audience with Captain Greyy.

  “What could possibly go wrong, friend? Have I ever led you astray?” The Thief took Jarvis by the arm and escorted him back to Greyy’s ship for an immediate interview.

  Chapter 163

  It was several hours before Greyylene returned to “Vharcan” from meeting with Donny Porter. When she found the Thief and her crewman on board her ire was stirred. She was not inclined to take the Thief back on as a crew member especially with the bounty for her ship. From the first they had met she had an uneasy feeling toward the Dark Elf, but he was an efficient thief.

  “Good day, Captain. Do forgive my intrusion, but I have a proposition for you.” He began.

  Refusing to return his greeting she stood with her arms crossed allowing him to continue.

  “I am in possession of an item of great value and it is in need of returning to its rightful owner. In exchange for this item there is a great reward. It has come to my attention that it is the desire of the crew to lift the curse put on the ship. I would think that returning such a powerful talisman would assist in that goal.” He finished with a flourish pulling out an amulet that was neatly tied with a dark leather cord.

  Greyy’s blood ran cold when she saw the soft stone swinging innocently. It looked very familiar to the one the Monk wore and she hoped it was not the same.

  “Tell me more of this amulet you have and where it is we need to return the foul thing.” She answered.

  “Ye also be needin’ more of an incentive than just this bauble to persuade the men to leave the Regatta to do this errand.”

  “You will recall the dragon’s nest we invaded a while back? There is a Savage village not so far from there, as a dragon flies that is. In that village lies a vast storehouse of dragon treasure.” He said with a sinister smile.

  “You can address the crew.” She said turning to her quarters and locking the door behind her.

  Several hours later most of the crew had returned. The Dark Elf had persuaded Jarvis to speak to Kegan in order to convince the
others to listen to the proposition. The colorful description of what was to be found and the promise of a grand adventure far away from the Pirates and the Navy was more than the crew could hope. The vote was immediate and unanimous; they would sail for the new land in hopes of great wealth and perhaps to lift their current damnation, but mostly for the hopes of great wealth.

  Chapter 164

  The task would consist of two stops. The first stop would be to a neighboring village where they would find a Priestess to act as mediator for the second village. It was said that the second village was fiercely hostile to outsiders but would receive those who held the blessing of the Priestess without incident.

  Quiet and hidden Captain and crew patiently awaited their contact. “Amazingly simple” the task was called, and for that reason alone there should have been cause for pause. In the steaming surroundings they sat covered by thick leaves and fetid waters. The distant thundering growl of ancient dragons echoed off the low hanging clouds punctuating the massive degree of uncertainty felt by those who gathered as a witness.

  All that was required was to return a simple stone to a “savage priestess”. There was little reason to be hiding in the underbrush in order to return something of worth and collect the reward. The Dark Elf had insisted on stealth because the tribe was unaccustomed to outsiders. They were to be prepared to defend themselves should tensions turn volatile.

  Returning items was an unfamiliar practice to a crew of Pirates but the promise of reward spurred them to continue. The air of malevolence put all the crew on edge causing tempers to flare. They had earned a reputation of being elite cutthroats, the nave “Vharcan” brought fear to the ears of the listener. How could they possibly maintain that level of respect within their pirate ranks by returning items?

  The One they had come to see soon appeared, a tall elegant priestess elf with long gowns and a walking stick that seemed as much fluid as firm. Ebony skin and ice white hair set her apart as a Dark Elf. Her gowns were not the typical black or dark gray color, but were bright in crimson and vibrant blues. As she glided across the muddied landscape towards a small village the ground beneath her seemed to cry her name. Flocks of colorful birds sprang from their resting places at her approach as if on parade.

  There was a glimmer of light that stole a moment and distracted the crew from the response of the villagers to the tall Priestess. There was no reason to attack yet an arrow from across the clearing flew true to her heart dropping her where she stood. The blood pooling on the ground seemed to make the earth moan in agony.

  The arrow belonged to the Dark Elf. At this act of blatant hostility it was quite clear that it was not in the interest of returning an artifact to the village but to gain access to the Priestess. The act of open blasphemy threatened to plunge the “Vharcan” deeper into the depths of damnation. The rest of the afternoon and evening unfolded into such a display of horror and chaos the crew would never again use the name of the Dark Elf or refer to his presence aboard the “Vharcan”.

  Chapter 165

  His treachery was an act of a spiritual and political sabotage by his “House”. He had been sent by his Matriarch to infiltrate Greyylene’s crew. The fact he was recommended by one of the trusted deckhands became a matter of sore bitterness. The reservations that had been felt early in his service aboard the ship became fully realized as the day passed.

  Deeply unhappy at the incident Greyy quietly went to investigate the body. The arrow that passed clean through her elegant body was one that belonged to the insubordinate male. The expression on the Priestess’ face was not one of horror or even surprise, but of peace and a degree of mercy. Her chiseled jaw and sloping ears accented the clean ancient lines around the eyes that stared blankly to the sky. In death the Priestess’ beauty and stunning power of peace was felt through the village and Greyy’s crew.

  Pirates never balked at killing anyone or anything, it came with the name of pirate. Killing for money was also part of the job description. Greyylene had tried hard to avoid becoming a mercenary or bringing undue attention to her already damned crew. This act of useless killing was all together unsavory. The fact that there was no payment for its completion added to the sour taste in her mouth.

  As is the custom of most mercenaries a piece of jewelry or other important item was removed from the body. From the lovely Priestess an ankh pendant was taken to prove the task was complete. Heavy for its size yet light it seemed cold yet burning. It was a mistake, Greyy was certain, but the task needed to be completed. It was with heavy foreboding they returned to the ship.

  The ankh Greyy hung around her neck and tucked securely into her tunic so no one else would bear the responsibility of their actions. As they boarded “Vharcan” the order was given to continue to the next destination. The whole crew was anxious to be done with this task and continue the path of their choosing.

  Chapter 166

  They moored near an ancient inlet full of dark skinned savages and littered with the bones of travelers who had wandered the shores, some in the not so distant past. Undaunted they continued on hoping their luck would change for the better. The errand that called them to the strange land should have been of little consequence, but the fates had a different plan. After the assassination of the Dark Elf Priestess many of the crew had the desire to shake off the images and heavy feeling of foreboding.

  Villagers that looked like homeless waifs meandered through the small clearings and string paths as though going about a normal day; they never glanced to the strangers who came to call. The lack of attention given to the crew was in glaring contrast to the warning they had previously been given.

  The event that unraveled before them was devastating and unbelievable. A small child came running along the center of the huts; around his neck he wore a thick leather strap with a potion bottle and nothing more. The bottle was immediately recognized by its soft glowing hue as the kind that held a very volatile compound that would erupt in a fast burning fireball. The boy continued to run towards the Captain with his arms outstretched as a child running towards its mother.

  As he ran the formula shook causing it to bubble fiercely threatening to explode. Greyy took her bow, notched an arrow and aimed at the strap binding the potion to the child, releasing the arrow in one fluid motion. Her arrow hit its mark merely grazing the child as the potion fell to the ground. She continued to run for the child hoping to protect him from the fire that would envelope him. In a blink the world turned black at the concussion blast that rolled across them.

  The explosion that rocked the ground threw those in close proximity violently to the ground. The ringing that assaulted their ears accented the blackness that filled the crew’s eyes with a deep and heavy unconscious stupor.

  Things happened so quickly after that it was difficult to tell the order of events. The next moment found the crew and the child locked in the brig of “Vharcan”. Most were unharmed, but the boy and Greyylene had burns and cuts from being thrown by the blast. The child sat shivering in the dark hold unaccustomed to the chill below deck.

  Keys rattled causing a low moaning stir from the crew; peeking through the heavy veil and pounding ring in her head Greyy saw the Dark Elf standing over them with her bow in his hands and a wicked grin on his face.

  Jarvis had been called “traitor” for bringing the vile Thief aboard. His usefulness had been used up by the lack of information he held but the Thief found great pleasure in inflicting pain regardless of the reason. Jarvis lay bloodied and beaten near dead at his feet.

  “Tis the Sentence of This court that Thou, woman, art guilty to sail the depths of the ocean in shame and with the title of “The Assassin of Priestess AlaunArra” on thy head.” The Dark Elf announced pointing a long dark finger at the Captain.

  He then took the child and aimed the bow to his head. The intent was obvious; the child was a loose end and was never meant to survive the day. He was a piece of the puzzle to indict the crew of “Vharcan”.
They would be heralded as heartless mercenaries who would kill women and children for profit.

  Never again would Greyy have safe harbor. They would sail continually with growing bounties on each crewman’s head. The assassin part was true; the whole crew was comprised of mercenaries. To have such a thing advertised was foolish; to be marked as a murderer of children and women was enough for any bounty hunter to take up arms against them.

  A slight movement from Jarvis caught Greyy’s eye. She tried to keep the attention of the fiend so the actions would not be seen. In his dying breath the wounded deckhand gave a fierce kick that dislodged the bow from the Dark Elf’s hand and knocked him on his back. Furious at the audacity shown in that instant the Elf drew a long sword and severed the head of his assailant from his body. As the head rolled to the cell bars the look on Jarvis’ face was one of shame and sorrow rather than any sign of fear. In that moment he moved from traitor to hero.

  Unthinking the wretched beast unlocked the cage and raced in to grab the child. In doing so he released all the captives. Not given to being treated as pent up animals the crew took the moment of weakness and pounced on it. Like a swarm of angry hornets the crew sprang upon him with the fury of a thousand storms.

  The Dark figure who thought he was far too clever for a crew of dirty sailors was quickly dispatched. He was beaten and ripped apart, more out of frustration than anger, and his body thrown overboard without pomp or circumstance and no degree of sympathy or remorse. Before he was unceremoniously tossed to the sea Greyylene ripped the amulet off his corpse and tucked it away with the Savage Ale. She would return that to the Monk next time they met.

  The “amazingly simple” trip was turning out to be more complex than the crew was inclined to pursue. More events unraveled at every turn. Before they could depart there was one last errand to attend. The child needed to be returned to his parents. One more “simple task”.