Into the Storm

by Christopher Johns

  He turned, scratching his bulbous stomach, and jutted his chin out at us. “Need a barrel?”

  “Yes, we do.” I smiled at him and motioned for Bokaj to step forward for his advantageous dealings with merchants due to his high charisma.

  The man began to speak in a guttural language that seemed almost harsh and grating, but our linguist was out.

  Vrawn stepped forward and began to converse with him, though haltingly at first, her deeper voice taking to the guttural noises easily enough.

  “You speak like a child, where did you grow up?” The man inquired, his gaze longing and curious.

  “I was raised by humans in Zephyth, the orcish I know is rusty, and I have been learning to refine it by speaking to a friend,” Vrawn explained herself, but I noticed that she didn’t apologize. Good.

  “So you know little of our people other than what you’ve been spoon-fed to believe?” The orc shook his head and returned to what he was doing, then stopped. “What kind of materials do you need to store?”

  “We need to store meat, and maybe another one to store fruits and vegetables. A slat to separate the two would be good.” I thought for a moment after looking back at my friends and silently admonished myself. It was my craft. “And I will need them to be the best materials that you have.”

  “I make things for function, not pretty.” The orc’s harsh tone, deep with anger, belted out.

  “I don’t need pretty, I need it to be the best so that I can work with it,” I said, then growled in return. “You capable of that, or do we need to go elsewhere?”

  The orc rounded on me and stomped over until he towered over me by more than a foot and a half, his tusks sharp and capped with gold flashing down at me. “You must think you have some big balls to come in here and demand shit from me, little fox.”

  I simply smiled and silently cast Aspect of the Ursolon, growing taller and stronger as I stood there until finally, I was seeing at more than eye to eye with him. “I know I do, but I have the strength to back my demands. Do you want my business or not?”

  The orc nod, more to himself than anything else, and grinned. “I’ll take up the challenge. Give me until morning two days from now. I keep the good stuff out back, and it’s already cut. It’ll be expensive, twenty gold each, but it’ll serve you well.”

  I took out twenty gold and handed it to him. “Half now, half on receipt.”

  “Good business, get out.” The orc snorted and returned to what he was doing.

  We walked outside, and I looked over to Vrawn. “What did he say to you?”

  “He greeted me kindly, but wondered why I traveled with all of you and no orcs but a half one.” She shrugged, and we were on our way toward the docks while we all watched the shadows. “I explained as best I could that I was with you, and he seemed to find that offensive because you look weak.”

  “Ah.” I dismissed the aspect spell and instead cast Aspect of the Eagle, a new spell that made my vision sharper and improved my dexterity by fifteen. I could feel my body becoming more lithe and sinewy, my eyes growing sharper, things at a distance became much clearer. “I apologize for looking weak.”

  “We all know looks can be deceiving.” Bokaj sighed with obvious despair. “I mean, take Muu, for instance, he looks cool as shit and is as dumb as a toddler.”

  “Oh, I’ll show you as dumb as a toddler, Elton John.” Muu huffed and shoved the man gruffly.

  Bokaj flew into a stall where someone had been selling fruits and veggies, the wood buckling under the newly added weight, and caving inward.

  “Uh, I am so sorry, miss.” Muu rushed over to help clean things up, barely taking note of the pissed off ranger or the cat who stalked out of his hood.

  The human woman was mildly distraught. “I just paid for today’s permit to sell, and now my stall is ruined. I’ll never be able to feed my family now and pay for the goods I’m selling.”

  Rather than seeking revenge, Bokaj took a deep breath and waved Tmont back as she looked ready to strike. “Tell you what, ma’am: Muu, the dragon-kin in front of you is going to help me rebuild your stall better than it ever was, and then we will pay you for the damages. How’s that sound?”

  His winning smile and apparent sincerity seemed to be winning her over, but Muu sweetened the deal. “And we will cover the rest of the permit fees for the week, if you’ll let us?”

  She nodded once, still looking like she was on the verge of tears as she brushed her brown hair aside. She wasn’t a bad looking woman, a little on the frail side, but she seemed strong and had smile lines on the sides of her mouth and eyes.

  You guys go find Balmur, we can handle this. Bokaj began to take stock of the wood he had access to and shook his head. “This stuff is nearly rotted out, it’s not fit for use. Don’t cry! I have some wood I’ll use. I’m quite the carpenter, you know.”

  Muu looked at us and nodded, his eyes flashing to the alley behind us. Tmont is over there watching our backs, so we will be able to know if something is amiss.

  Okay. Be safe. I motioned to the others, and they fell in around me.

  We walked to the docks, and a familiar rogue figure separated itself from the shadows and waved us over.

  “I got us some rooms here.” Balmur jerked his head to the nice, white-painted building behind him. “And I think I may have a lead on one of those demons we’re supposed to be hunting.”

  “The Demon’s Day Out quest?” Yohsuke scowled. “How on earth did you figure that out?”

  “The syndicate here has ties to all the cities and a crap ton of lesser mages in its employ,” Balmur explained in a low tone, his eyes shifting back and forth to watch our surroundings. “Using them, they’ve discovered a large nexus of shipments that have demon summoning components smattered in.”

  “And where’s it headed?” Vrawn asked suddenly with her back to us.

  “Overseas somewhere.” Balmur confirmed my suspicions, then glanced toward Yoh. “I’ll answer that later. Where are the others?”

  “Helping to fix a stall, Tmont is watching over them, and the barrels should be done in a few days,” I answered. “What the hell is going on with you, man?”

  “I’m finally in my element.” Balmur grinned excitedly. “This is what my trainer trained me to do, but there was never an organized criminal element to any place we went, but here? There’s an entire playground I get to wander, and I’m having a blast.”

  Suppose that’s fair, I growled to myself. “Let’s get inside and get some food. Bea, baby, I have to put you in my collar now because it’s inside. Okay?”

  The raptor dipped her head and nuzzled Vrawn’s shoulder affectionately before tapping my collar and filtering inside in a plume of smoke.

  We walked inside and sat. The interior was as nice as the exterior, bland, and coated in white paint. The black chairs and tables seemed decently put together, though, and the bartender dressed well. Her spiky blond hair stood up from at all angles around her head, angular cheeks, and a pointed chin greeted us with a smile. Round, human ears stuck out from the side of her head, and gray eyes watched us intently.

  “Hello.” Her thick accent sounded almost Russian, which was surprising. “How can I help you?”

  “We rented rooms earlier and wanted to see about food?” Balmur sat at the bar and smiled at her.

  “You, I remember, mister cute dwarf.” She tilted her head at Balmur with a wink. “These ones, I do not. Will you be vouching for them, fiery one?”

  Fiery one? Jaken snorted, his grin unabashed and plain to view.

  “I’ll vouch for them, I work with them.” Balmur’s smile was untouched. “Katja, my brothers. Guys, this is the owner of the Albatross Nest Inn and Tavern.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Vrawn offered her hand, and the woman shook it lightly. “Thank you for hosting us.”

  “You are welcome.” Katja pulled out several glasses. “It is customary for my customers to share a drink with the owner.”

  “I don’t dr
ink alcohol.” Yohsuke grunted, pointing to a bottle of what looked like water. “You have water?”

  “I do.” She grabbed a dingy looking bottle with a brown liquid in it and set it in the bar.

  “We will pour his.” James offered quickly and poured water from his canteen into the glass meant for the vampire.

  Katja nodded once and poured a silvery liquid into a cup in front of her, then the others, and lifted her cup. “To your health and honor. May one never impede the other.”

  “Health and honor!” The rest of us raised our cups and knocked back the strange alcohol. It burned something fierce but in a delightful way. My lycanthrope metabolism kicking in to destroy the booze that might affect my system. I could get drunk, but it took a lot of alcohol. I’d really learned that at the party with the dwarves, but this was a decent place to note it too.

  The others had sour expressions and smiled, Jaken venturing, “Thanks, Katja, can we order some food?”

  “Food will begin in one hour, it is self-serve style. I do not care to wait on many people, so you will care for yourselves.”

  Yohsuke offered a nod. “See you then.” He made to leave toward the stair at the rear of the bar opposite the entrance and stopped when we all looked at him oddly. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

  Several “oh,” faces greeted him, and Balmur took him upstairs to find the rooms that we would be using while we stayed.

  “Katja, do you know any ship captains who we could speak to about passage overseas?” James requested softly as a group of people made their way inside, it looked like the lunch rush was starting.

  “No captains here.” She motioned to the people who had walked in, looking like the majority had been merchants. “They prefer to be near their ships on the other side of the docks. I know of a place, look for the mermaid on the wall, it is called the Schooners’ Screw. Captains and first mates only there.”

  I glanced over at the others. Food then go see about trying to set up passage?

  Don’t you think we should wait until the barrels are done? Balmur returned as he plodded down the staircase.

  Passage should be procured as swiftly as possible. If they know we’re waiting a couple days, then they might delay their departure time so they can make more money, Jaken reasoned, his hand on his stomach. Anyone else feel like the booze was a little potent?

  Sensing something was off, Katja called out, “Novasti alcohol is very potent, my friend. We brew it in house, you are not poisoned, but you should eat a belly full to be safe.” Her smile was one of pride, and I knew we would be okay here.

  We ate our fill, leaving a generous tip for Katja and her employees before we took off to secure passage. Out the door and into the light once more, the sea breeze ruffled my clothes, and I took in a deep breath and sighed. The place kind of reminded me of San Diego with the way the heat and sea scent played together, making me a little homesick.

  We continued on our way down the docks and toward our destination. We took in the sights, wooden planks, and what looked like stone piers struck out into the bay where crystalline water met the gravel shore. A few tall ships docked in places, none of them really sporting any sort of flag or moniker, which seemed odd, but I was a Marine—not a sailor. What little I knew about boats was that they sucked, and got my brothers and me from point A at home to point B anywhere in the world in time to kick ass and take names so hard it was like we stole them.

  Yeah, I was proud of that. Thank god I’d never been on ship more than a few hours, though. Screw that underway shit.

  A hand on my shoulder startled me and I turned quickly to find Vrawn watching me with concern offered a small smile, “Are you well?”

  I nodded. “I’ve never been one for the ocean, and seeing all these ships reminded me of an aspect of my life that I thought I may never get to experience again. Let alone need to.”

  “Can you not swim?” She looked at me, curiously.

  “I swim great, all of the people who make it through the training that James, Yoh, and I did need to be able to swim well.” I smiled at her, and she seemed to take it better than before. “It’s more a matter of what is beneath the water that I don’t know of that concerns me. Always has.”

  “You’re afraid?”

  “I prefer the term, respecting boundaries.” She snorted, and a couple of the guys laughed. “See, if I was meant to swim with the fish all day, I’d have been born with gills.”

  Vrawn laughed then, her chuckle making me grin wider. “How about you? Do you like the ocean?”

  “Growing up near Zephyth as I did, I would go to the beach with my mother and siblings to train in the sands.” Vrawn’s wistful expression left her with a sad look in her eyes despite the small smile on her lips. “I remember the time my brother and sister went into the waves to fight a dreaded sea dragon as children. They giggled and carried on for hours as our mother watched them proudly.”

  “I take it they were playing, and the sea dragon was fake?” She snorted and nodded her head, as we rounded a bend in the docks with buildings creeping closer. “Why didn’t you join them?”

  “I also have a fear of the unknown in the water, and never learned to swim because of it.” She crossed her arms as if it would protect her. “While they played, my mother took the time to show me how better to attack a foe and prepare myself for battle. She offered to teach me to swim, but I was stubborn and refused. My answer was always, ‘what need have I of flailing in water when my enemies will be on land?’ She was proud of my pragmatism in this, and showed me many things.”

  “So we need to teach you how to swim then,” Jaken’s cheerful assumption made Vrawn paused and shook her head. “We’ll be on a boat, Vrawn. If you can’t swim, you won’t be able to keep up with us. And someone could get hurt trying to protect you or save you.”

  Vrawn stopped in her tracks, consternation and fear taking her features. Her brow furrowed, and her nose crinkled before she sighed heavily and looked at us all. “Please teach me how to swim.”

  “We would be delighted.” I took her hand in mine and we continued on toward the tavern.

  This place looked much more run down than I had expected. The grayish-green stone walls and wood boards above the structure looked pitted and worn from time and exposure to salt air and water. Honestly, it may as well have been on the damned beach with how close it was to the water.

  “We sure this is it?” I muttered to my friends. “I don’t see a mermaid on the wall.”

  “That’s cause she be on the starboard side o’ the buildin’ close to the sea,” a gruff voice made me turn, and I found a small gnomish man limping our way. “That be the Schooner’s Screw sure as I be Cap’n Fredric Filthyfeet.”

  I frowned at him for a moment, then realized he wore no shoes despite the rest of his well-made attire. The white shirt held a fringe of ruffles on the front of it like a lapel, and his pants were black as the night sky. He looked every bit a ship captain, though he wore no hat over his tanned face or bald head. His right hand fell to a cutlass almost as long as he was tall that dragged on the beach behind him as he walked forward to stand closer and leer at us.

  “Nice to meet you, captain.” Jaken was the first to step forward and offer his hand. The small man clasped the paladin’s wrist, and they shook once. “We were wondering if we could interest any of the local ship captains in some work. Do you and yours sail to the Continent of Beasts?”

  The gnome snorted. “Not many here be crazy enough to venture there, but I s’pose ye could ask about.” He motioned toward the building. “Sailors and crew be barred, and normal folk be tolerated, so mind yerselfs and ye’ll be a’right.”

  “Thank you.” Balmur smiled at the shorter man, the captain looking at him oddly, then limping away.

  I nodded and we headed inside the building to a warm room and beer-infused air. It was almost enough to give me a headache, like some of the bars I’d been in as a child.

  There was Filthyfeet speaking to t
he barman, a human man with a greasy mop of hair who didn’t seem to pay us any mind as we filed in. Several men in white hung around in the far corner of the room with a table, smoke billowing from their pipes and ruckus chatter pausing for a second, then continuing.

  There were several other figures watching us carefully, some of them wearing normal enough clothing, others not so much.

  “Ye don’ look like any ship cap’ns I ever did see,” a gruff voice reached us from our left. A lone figure sat at the only table on that side of the room with their back to the wall, a hood lifted over their head despite the dark surrounding them. There was no window here on this side of the door to shed any illumination for us to see with.

  “That would be because we aren’t,” I spoke, my charisma being the highest of those of us here. “We’re hoping to find passage to the continent of beasts. Know anyone who might be able to help us?”

  The figure chuckled, a rasping wheeze emanating from the void of his hood. “Not many choose to go there of their own accord, and not many more come back.”

  “We’re thinking we’ll be okay.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but the unknown was… well, the unknown.

  “I see, and how you meanin’ to make yer way there?” The figure motioned to the chairs around the table. “Funds? Employ? Trade?”

  “Depends.” Balmur shrugged as he took a seat across from the figure. “Who are we speaking to?”

  The figure stilled, then lowered the hood from his face. Burn marks covered the majority of his features, the scar tissue looking like claw marks over the majority of his head. Tufts of hair grew where the scarring wasn’t too bad, strawberry blond locks growing haphazardly. Once we had a good look at him, he lifted his hood back up and coughed.

  “I’m Scar, a broker of sorts here for the cap’ns, so their precious revelry be safe and sound.”