Chapter 13 - The Pirate Cove

The Blue Nixie was docked at the very end of the harbor. An unassuming ship, carved into the side of the hull was her name and the visage of a sea nymph riding the waves. The symbol of the Mindulgulph was woven into the threads of the flag as it ripped about in the winds.

A flock of seagulls leapt into the air as the Prince and former slave walked down the docks. “Do you remember the plan,” Lucian asked, keeping his eyes locked on the Mindulgulph who were loading the ship with supplies.

“Head out, get captured, free the others,” Aven said. “I still don’t like how little information we have. We haven’t the faintest idea what’s waiting for us when we reach the others."

"Don’t worry. I have a failsafe. All you have to do is follow orders.”

They walked onto the ship, the plank creaking under Aven’s weight. An aarakocra waited for them - a humanoid, bird-like creature with flaming red feathers. The aarakocra lifted a clawed hand to his head in salute. “So kind of you to join us,” he said.

“Where is the Captain?” Lucian asked.

“Occupied. Shall I escort you to your chambers? We set sail in but a few moments. Or perhaps dinner?"

"Dinner in bed.” Lucian strode past the bird, throwing his belongings into the creature’s arms as though he were a servant and stalked towards the cabins.

Aven pushed out a sigh. “I’ve got it, sorry,” he snorted, taking the Prince’s effects back from the bird. “If he hasn’t completely offended you into wanting nothing to do with us, dinner would be nice."

The aarakocra appeared particularly ruffled. He gave a short nod. "Ah… yes, my lord."

My lord. Aven nearly choked. "My name is Aven,” he swiftly corrected. “I’m probably as royal as a single feather on your body. Maybe less.” His cheeks burned as he followed Lucian down into the cabins.

—————————————–

After dinner, which consisted of a fine cuisine of fish, wine and exotic, spiced breads, Aven laid on the bed and watched as Lucian worked at their cabin’s desk. Twilight poured over the water, turning the sea red. The ship cut through the water, five hours out from Athkatla’s port.

“I always assumed I’d be afraid of the ocean,” Aven murmured as he moved to stand beside the Prince. “It’s so different from Exthellion. No buildings. No masters. Just emptiness and nothingness, going on for miles. Yet, I find myself enjoying being on a ship. It’s…"

"Freeing,” Lucian finished for him. He glanced over towards Aven. “It’s your human nature blossoming. All people yearn for freedom, and the sea provides. Perhaps you have a profession in sailing in your future."

"Maybe,” Aven snorted. “Question is, would you come with me?”

“I’m sure I’ll be making a number of voyages once I take my throne,” Lucian purred. “Visitations and diplomacies, weddings and funerals. I can’t even tell you how many times my father left on some voyage to Faerun and Zakhara. You could be my lackey carrying my things.”

Aven grinned. “Typically your ‘things’ consist of your entire wardrobe. I’d throw my back out within the first week.”

“Please, you’re not that fragile.”

“You’d be surprised. What were you thinking about?"

Lucian had most certainly been thinking about something. Aven had been with the Prince long enough to tell the signs. The way he gripped his quill so hard it might snap in two. His brows pushed together. Lucian sighed and placed the quill down on the desk and leaned back in his seat.

“I was thinking about Spellhold.”

Spellhold. Aven grimaced. "Shame how a place could be so vile,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine you being in a place like that."

Lucian sighed. ”…about that. I want to go back there after the mercenaries are freed. And I want to liberate the mages from the keep.“

Aven was stunned into silence. He stared at Lucian, mouth agape. "How would we do that?” He hissed. “You’re practically dethroned right now, and even if we did free them, wouldn’t they just be rounded up again?"

"We’d find a way to keep them safe. Unless you haven’t noticed, we’re short on allies. My uncle has just gained control of Aeliorn in its entirety. If I am to return to the throne, we will need allies. As many as we can find. With the Mindulgulph Company and these liberated mages on our side, we will possess the beginnings of an army."

"So you want to liberate them so they’ll be indebted to you?"

"Yes."

Aven considered it a moment, features frazzled and tanned complexion illuminated in the twilight. ”…okay. We’ll work it out, but I doubt the Mindulgulph Company will aid us in this. We might need to find… other help.“

"I agree. We will need a show of wealth or dominance to control the Mindulgulph. But… in the meantime.” Lucian’s paled features flushed. “I have something for you."

"A gift?"

"You could say that. I hated that ugly collar. So I….had it refashioned."

Lucian reached into his pack, fished about - and drew out a necklace of solid gold. The gold was woven into locks of chains that met at a medallion in the middle. A lion head was carved into the precious metals, powerful jaws opened in mid roar. It was beautiful. Unlike anything Aven had ever seen.

Aven’s breath caught in his throat. Brown eyes glittered over the necklace, and a heavy flutter seized his chest. "Lucian…” his fingers delicately prodded the material. But rather than grasping the necklace, his hand fell at Lucian’s waist. “Stop making me wish I was better with wording. I might as well be making flustered, grunting noises like a buck in heat."

Lucian’s blush returned tenfold. "I was merely improving what I already owned,” he muttered, and draped the necklace around Aven’s neck. It rested at his shoulders, the gold cool against his dark skin.

“It’s beautiful.” Aven smirked. “And highly generous.”

“I can be generous when I want to be. Such occasions are simply a rarity.”

Affection surged. Aven’s gaze searched Lucian’s face. The Prince hadn’t the faintest idea what such a gift meant to him… the former slave. “Lucian, I-”

A knock at the door, and a figure swept in. “I hope I haven’t interrupted.” They turned as a man - a beast - that could only be the captain approached. He carried himself with confidence. Among his own kind, Aven imagiend he might have been considered handsome. His body was coated with black and grey reptilian scales, feathers of gold dripping from the spines running down the length of his neck. The Captain’s eyes were reptilian, his pupils slits of black in a pool of teal.

“No,” Lucian assured. He pushed Aven’s hand away as he regarded the captain.

“Good. My name is Ixichi. And I’d very much like to know how two Aelorian foreigners have ended up on my ship. I rarely ever carry your kind.”

The captain. Aven’s eyes searched the lizardfolk. “Our story is long, but shortened, we’re simply returning a favor for those who gave us their assistance when it was greatly needed."

"I didn’t ask for the shortened version.” His eyes pried Lucian and Aven in suspicion. His gaze landed on Lucian. “I know your type. Noble. What purpose do you have so far from home and dressed in rags, boy."

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. He took a step forward, as though ready to make a scathing comment… when he took a short intake of breath. His clenched fists relaxed. ”…our story has nothing to do with the current objective. We’re on a mission to save your companions, and its success is mutually beneficial to the both of us. Anything else is irrelevant information.“

Ixichi nodded. His attention leveled on Aven. "And you?"

"And me?” Aven frowned. “I’m the reason we’re here."

"I trust you know how to use those axes."

"Consider my axes the ship that I captain.” Ixichi found humor in that. His lip twitched up in amusement. “Good. It wouldn’t do to scrape you off the slaver’s floor during our rescue mission.” He turned to leave. “We’re soon approaching their territory. There’s no telling when the raiders will take the bait, so stay alert.”

The Captain disappeared out the door. Lucian glanced over. “Modest.”

“I’m not as skilled at self praising as you. I’m good with my axes.”

“Everyone should have at least a modicum of skill in weaponry. Otherwise they’re helpless.”

Aven glanced over to the rapier hanging off the Prince’s hip. “…why choose that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why is the rapier your chosen blade?”

“Swordsmanship was a part of my studies when I was younger,” Lucian said. “All nobles are expected to have some calibre of martial arts. Of course, much more emphasis was placed on arcane education, but it’s important for the future King of Aeliorn to be able to hold his own in a fight.”

“May I see it?”

Lucian drew his blade. Masterwork, it was clearly forged by nothing less than an artist. Silver runes were carved into the hilt, the tip sharp enough to pierce flesh with the slightest pressure. "This was crafted by the son of my family’s Artificer, Ignis Warren…” Lucian hesitated. “..he’s likely been arrested, for being affiliated with me.”

It was so small. No edges for cutting, no weight for carving. Aven frowned. “…it doesn’t look very effective."

"You’d be surprised. It’s not meant to kill in the way you’re used to. To wield a rapier…” Lucian stepped into the middle of the room, assuming position. His feet were positioned at an angle, one foot out, the other to the side and his unarmed hand locked behind his back. “One must fight as though they were in a dance rather than combat. It requires absolute finesse, rather than mindless swinging.” The Prince surged forward in a series of fast stabs and jabs.

“Then I suppose the use of a rapier is out of my range,” Aven said. “I still don’t dance.” Aven slid his axe into view. “Not many use axes. Anyone can fight with a sword, but to wield an axe you have to have power behind every swing. There’s no balance. When you strike, if you don’t follow through you’ll fall right on your ass. I like them. They show little mercy, yet utter mercy all at once. They’ll slaughter foes in an instant, but the death is quick.”

"The axe and the rapier,” Lucian mused. “They require absolute purpose when initiated in combat. Along with bows, I imagine. No archer pulls back an arrow and lets it fly without the purpose to kill. With every arrow, there’s sure to be a casualty, as with the swing of an axe.” Lucian hugged himself. His gaze slid towards the window out over the water. “You be careful when the chaos begins."

"Aren’t I always careful?"

"No."

“I blame you.”

Lucian scowled. “The hell do you mean?”

“Typically my attention is on a certain prince who has a proclivity for getting injured.”

“I can handle myself.”

"I know you can. I just-"

He felt it rather than heard it. A boom that shook his diaphragm and squeezed his insides. Instinct propelled him forward, tackling Lucian to the ground as the windows shattered into a thousand shards, canon fire slamming through the walls. Wooden beams went flying, and his ears rang. “Aven!”

Lucian was pushing to his feet in a daze. “It’s started, come on!”

He grabbed Aven’s hand. They tore out of the ruined room and onto the deck, where all hell had been let loose.

The pirate’s ship was right on them, several of the bastards having already made their way onto the Mindulgulph’s deck. Blood spilled from the first casualties bled over the burning deck, several pirates and a fallen gnoll. By the helm, Captain Ixichi fought off three of the pirates, already suffering heavy wounds. His lip bled, his tunic was soaked in red and he deflected a blade with a spin of his scimitar and pushed the blade between a man’s ribs. Aven knew the drill…. they had to make it look convincing.

“Well,” Lucian murmured. “That’s my cue.”

“Your cue? What are you talking about?” Lucian didn’t answer. He uttered an arcane word, stepped onto the railing - and fell forwards. “Lucian?!” He surged towards the Prince. Reached to grab him. His hand caught air and wildly, desperately, peered into the brackish water below.

No Lucian.

Aven grit his teeth. Damn it! You better have a plan.

He turned and focused his attention on the pirates flanking Captain Ixichi. He charged them like a bull. The pirates barely had time to notice him coming on them before his axe cut through one of their backs, splitting their spine in two. His other axe swept forward, pushing across another pirate’s stomach and he crumbled, clawing at his spilled guts.

Ixichi lunged forward, felling the third and staggered, clutching his wounds.

"You look rough,” Aven winked. Ixichi’s chuckle was more of a pained grunt.

“You fight well, for a flesh bag.” He lifted his scimitar, deflecting the blow of a pirate’s cutlass.

Another cannon was fired. The ball of steel cut right through the mast and it toppled over onto the deck, scraps of wood ricocheting across the battlefield.

Aven’s back was to Ixichi’s. He could feel the heat of the flames against his face. The blood dripping down his arm as a splinter of wood sliced through his muscle. Aven’s axes cut through flesh and bone, his face splattered with red.

The lizardfolk was completely and entirely in his perfect environment. Using the swaying ship to his advantage, he struck towards the legs, twisted about and sliced his blade through the pirate’s neck instead. He looked over and grinned.

“Nice,” Aven snickered, his breath heavy. More pirates were converging on them. “A fine honor it is to become a slave once again with you, captain.”

“And you,” Ixichi panted. “Get ready.” His weapon clattered to the deck. He lifted his hands. No words were needed. The motion of submission was a command in of itself to the rest of his crew and a chorus of steel rang out as weapons fell to the deck. Aven reluctantly followed suit. His axes imaled into the wood at his feet.

The pirates were swift in their disarming. With great pain and restraint, Aven watched as his axes were taken away, the pirates ogling over his beautiful weapons and murmuring about how they could fetch a pretty penny. Ixichi lowered to his knees. Aven hesitated for but a moment and lowered. He could feel rough hands fastening his hands behind his back in rope, and a tug at his neck. They were beginning to unclasp the gold around his throat.

Aven looked up. Ferocity burned in his eyes. “Leave it,” he snarled.

The pirate hesitated.

Another snorted, smoking a foul smelling pipe. “Leave the man to his gold. His life will be forfeit soon enough.” He posed a dominating figure. His eyes grazed along the prisoners lined up before him. Gold eyes glittered maliciously in the light of the flames as he lifted Aven’s chin with the point of his curved blade. “What is your name."

"Aven."

"I assume you’re the captain of this vessel."

"No." Ixichi leaned forward. "I am."

The man snorted. "Oh? But it was this one who cut through my men like they were paper. Are you sure you aren’t just trying to protect him, lizard?"

"I used to fight as a gladiator,” Aven said. “Your men aren’t equipped to deal with someone who slays monsters for a living."

“Blood will be spilt either way. Get these scum back to the cove!”

The pirates began to round them up. Aven was dragged to his feet and Ixichi leaned forward.”Prince Lucian… where is he?”

Aven hadn’t seen Lucian since he leapt from the ship. He shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“He fled.”

“No. He has a plan.” He had to have a plan.

———————————————

It was nearly a day before the ship finally slid into the pirate’s cove. A great, gaping maw of a cave opened up into a cavernous beach where a settlement had been built. Rickety buildings were lofted up above the water, and the air was thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol and hookah. Mountains of supplies were stacked twenty feet tall - gathered from captured vessels and three ships were moored on the crudely crafted docks. As Aven and the other prisoners were gathered on the deck, he stepped forward slightly to peer down into the inky water. Dorsal fins slipped up above the surface before dipping down into darkness.

“Do you see them anywhere?” An aarakocra whispered to a nearby kenku who shook her head. The captured mindulgulph were nowhere in sight.

The river led deeper underground, flanked by great burning braziers posted into the caveside. The ship followed the wide meandering current that cut into the cliffside. The Mindulgulph stuck close together. Unarmed and in chains, there was a faint tremor of fear that passed through them.

“It’ll be alright,” Aven hissed under his breath as they passed into unknown territory.

A gnoll’s ear twitched. “Hear that?”

Aven craned to listen. The Mindulgulph, with their animalistic hearing were able to pick it up much quicker than he…. He could hear cheers. And from ahead - could see the faint light of a hundred torches.

The ship sailed into a massive cavern - and Aven’s gut churned.

It was an arena. Rows of steps had been carved into the outer ring of the cavern, and the river led into a pool of water that held an island. It was surrounded by iron fencing that stretched all the way to the ceiling, and in its sandy center, a mighty trap door. The ship moored against the island. Aven felt a shove against his back.

“Move!” Growled a pirate, and Aven stumbled down the planks with a grimace.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he grumbled, pushing forward in the direction of the island. He and the other Mindulgulph were herded through the fencing’s gate - and it slammed shut behind them, key locking it shut with a clang of metal.

They were like beasts on display.

Aven could hear the roar of a hundred pirates, separated by a river and fence.

The cheering came to a sudden stop, and their attention was directed upwards. Near the ceiling was a balcony carved into stone, and out stepped a man. Slowly, like a king greeting his people. Long, dark hair lay braided across his fine tunic, a cloak of tiger fur drawn over his broad shoulders. His shrewd brown eyes gazed across his kingdom and lifted a hand.

“It seems we’ve been brought some entertainment!” He shouted. His voice echoed through the cavern. “The Mindulgulph Company, here to liberate the Sword Coast!”

The taunt was met by jeering laughter. A gnoll bared her teeth, claws clenching. “Bastard…”

“Who is he?” Aven hissed.

“Kalazure. The King of Thieves. Communication past this point always went dark…”

“But what is entertainment without some spilt blood!” Kalazure shouted. He waved his hand - and Aven leapt back at the sound of grating gears. He looked up - just in time to see weapons streaking down from the ceiling, released by a pulled lever.

Axes, swords and spears stabbed into the sand. One unlucky lizardfolk took a battleaxe to the head, and crumbled like a rock. Aven grimaced, placed his boot on the man’s back and ripped it from his skull. He located another a short ways away. Mundane. Shoddy. Weapons not even pillagers or thieves would use. The blades looked ready to break off at the hilt.

The Mindulgulph sprang for them, floundering for their arms. Aven grit his teeth. “Something’s coming!” He roared. “Get ready, and surround the trap door! Flank it!”

They did as Aven commanded. Swiftly, the Mindulgulph got into position, weapons readied. Kalazure clapped his hands - and Aven could feel it.

The shudder beneath his feet. The whirring of chains and gears. The crowd of pirates exploded into excitement as the trap door opened, and a cage rose up from the ground. Inside - seven long, slender necks snapped outwards from a draconic body, pointed fangs lunging towards the Mindulgulph. Its chest heated with flames and Aven’s eyes widened. “Pyrohydra! Move!”

He knew what was coming.

He’d seen such a beast brought in for a special arena battle. But the Mindulgulph were not so prepared. He dove to the side, covering his head as seven streams of fire blasted forth from the hydra’s maws, turning a gnoll’s body into ash and dust.

The cage’s gate slid upwards. The hydra slithered out, heads lashing and gnashing, molten saliva dripping from its jaws. He grit his teeth. Fingers clenched tight around his axes and he snapped his head towards the Mindulgulph. “Avoid the heads! Hit their legs and bellies - do not sever at the neck!”

At one point, they may have only listened to orders from their captain. But off the water - Aven was the one in charge. Ixichi was the first to lunge forward. His cutlass curved across the ankle of the hydra and a gnoll’s spear bounced across shield-like scales. They converged in a swarm, weapons clashing and jaws snapping.

Aven waited.

He prowled along the outside like a panther, body tense and ready to spring as his arena instincts kicked in. He wasn’t beneath letting the Mindulgulph take the heat while he waited for the perfect moment.

One unfortunate Kenku became the hydra’s focus of attention. He was snatched up in a flash of teeth, and another greedy head tried to grab the kenku from its brother, ripping him in half. Guts spilled onto the sand.

Now.

Aven dashed forward, boots digging into the dirt. He rolled between the jaws of a hydra’s head, teeth only inches from catching him and as he tumbled beneath its belly, dragged his axe along its tender underside.

The hydra roared. Seven heads flailed and opened their maws, blasts of fire shooting out in all directions. The crowd beyond cheered with glee.

“Flank the hydra!” Ixichi shouted, sleeve smoldering. “Surround the creature, don’t let it catch us all with its breath!”

The Mindulgulph company were not faint of heart dandelions. Warriors with the hearts of beasts, they’d taken down worse foes in the grasslands of Amn. They expertly drew its attention, polearms up to jab at snapping fangs while others surged forward with daggers, axes and blades.

Two heads lunged at Aven. He danced backwards, acidic drool landing at his feet and hissing as it burned into the sand. One of the hydra’s maws clamped onto the neck of another by accident, and it recoiled to snap at its brother. Another chance.

Blood pumped through Aven’s skull, filling his vision with red. Rage. It fueled him, fingers curving tight around the hilts of his blades. He charged forward. His twin axes slashed and cut through its scaled flesh and a quick glance revealed the skin slowly pulling itself together. It was regenerating. Aven’s teeth slammed together. “For fuck sake, you stupid giantic lizard!”

His axes slammed away a first head as it dove towards him, and a second came from the other side. Teeth slashed through his clothes, piercing into skin and Aven gasped out, staggering backwards. Damn it. Damn it. Lucian left him… to this. He abandoned them. His fingers coiled around the axe. A snarl that had been rooted in his throat tore out in a roar - and he surged forwards once more.

Three heads snapped towards him, fanged maws gaping wide. He waited. Waited until the last moment - and leapt. Boots planted down on its head and surged forward seconds before another fang filled jaw clamped down where he’d only just been - upon the neck of its brother. He ran the length of its neck, dodging and twisting as another attack grazed him by inches.

He leapt.

Aven’s axes cut downwards into the center of its spine, crunching through vertebrae. The crack ran through the hydra like a shudder. Its heads snapped listlessly, blood-soaked body staggering forth before falling limp in a spray of sand.

The crowd was utterly silent.

Blood dripped from Aven’s fingers. His muscles still trembled as he pushed himself to his feet, glaring down coldly upon the corpse of his foe and trained his sharp eyes on the gaping crowd. He slung his axes to the side. “Happy now?!”

A thunderous roar of excited shouts filled the cavern. Pirates leapt from their seats, shouting insults and praise.

They were quieted by the lifted hand of Kalazure. The King of Thieves’ eyes struck Aven dead center. His cold gaze lingered on the barbarian a moment - before his features lifted into a smile. “It seems we’ve underestimated our prisoners. That one! Bring him to my quarters. Take the others to the stockades.”

Aven’s stomach sank.

“Shit.”

Moments later, in chains with adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Aven was disarmed and led through the pirate’s headquarters. They flanked the tunnels, patting him on the back, complimenting his kill, mussing up his tangled, dirty hair as he passed.

Aven felt utterly violated.

He wasn’t sure how far he’d been led into the cliff face before he came to a great door. A guard pushed it open, and he was shoved inside - leaving him alone with Kalazure.

The Pirate King stood before a map plastered on the wall, lines cutting through the Sea of Swords marking supply routes and borders. He drew another line from Amn straight to Maztica, eyes locked on the map.

Aven didn’t move. He didn’t speak. His arms were locked behind his back and he watched the man with curiosity. Finally, Kalazure placed down his quill. “That was quite the spectacle.” He turned. “Surprising, that you were able to bring down my pet, nearly all on your own. You’ve had experience.”

“Was it?” Aven’s voice was low. “That was just another typical day for me.”

“Even more surprising,” Kalazure hummed as he sat at his desk. “Is that there is a human among the ranks of the Mindulgulph….are you a lycan of some sort? A shifter?”

“Not a lycan. A liberated slave hired upon the crew to aid them. You could say I’m a beast in my own way.”

“That was quite plain. Only a beast could kill another beast in a manner such as yours. What is it they offer you?”

“Shelter. Food. Adventure…” He recalled Lucian’s need for an army to liberate the mages. “And their men.”

“I see. And what if I could offer you more.” Kalazure snapped his fingers. Aven’s shackles fell to his feet, and Kalazure motioned for the chair opposite him.

Aven hesitated and eased himself into the chair. “Like?”

“Your prowess is beyond any of my men. They’re loyal enough, when well paid, but they’re…rapists. Slavers. Common bandits. I could use someone like you.” He motions to the map. “Tomorrow, a vessel within the city of Athkatla is to set sail, carrying a noble. Help us take this ship….and my men will be at your service.” His lip twitched. “A delicious opportunity, no?”

Aven sat in stunned silence. “…and what will become of the noble?”

“She is the youngest of her family. Several years younger than yourself, I would say. Her relatives will pay handsomely to retrieve their kin.”

An army. It was exactly what Lucian needed… Aven’s chest swelled slightly. Despite Lucian’s betrayal, his heart leapt at the thought of making him proud with his initiative. “…all right. You have a deal.”

“What’s your name, boy.”

“Aven. In the ring, I was known as Beast Tamer.”

“You hail from a gladiator ring? That would explain it. You certainly know how to entertain a crowd.” He whistled. The door opened and a guard emerged. “Randal. Please escort the Beast Tamer to his room.”

Aven followed without resistance. His room, it turned out, was not a prison, but not luxurious by any means, either. A hammock rested in the back, along with a desk holding a few books. It seemed to have been someone’s room - and only a stain of blood spurted across the floor was Aven’s only clue as to what may have happened.

“Lovely,” Aven groaned. He fell onto his hammock, and instinctively, his fingers coiled around the amulet around his neck. “I’m leading a fucking kidnapping,” he muttered. “How the hell did this happen.”