The water was rough throughout the day; the sure sign of an oncoming storm. Captain Aasira had her crew roll up the mainsail and unfurl the storm sails in preparation at around midday, before it got too dark. Pieces of Eight and Maudak hoisted the sails at her request.
Maudak was at least eight feet tall, grey skin with black marks like a standard goliath. Unlike most goliaths, he had hair on top of his head, even if it was just stubble.
Drake, affectionately called Pieces of Eight, was a half-orc, younger than Aasira, maybe eighteen or nineteen. At that thought, she wasn't a hundred percent sure why the crew called them Pieces of Eight.
Hope came up from below deck holding a small ornate wooden box. She was Aasira's first mate and most trusted friend. Aasira herself was surprised that Hope wanted to come with her, she didn't think tieflings liked water, considering the relationship with demons and fire. Nevertheless, her lavender skinned first mate walked up to her and handed Aasira the box.
"This is it?" Aasira's brow furrowed as she took it.
Hope nodded. "Checked it myself."
Aasira opened the box, confirming with her own eyes what was in the box. A gold ring, molded into the shape of an octopus with two small emeralds for eyes. She quickly closed the box, tucked it under her arm and flipped her orange hair out of her face.
"Thank you. There's a storm coming in, I'll be in my cabin and I would like to not be disturbed."
"Alright, Captain. We'll see you later tonight."
❖❖❖
The ship rocked and creaked as the storm raged outside. Aasira sat in her quarters with her feet kicked up on her desk. She chewed at her fingernails as she held the octopus ring in her hand. There was something strange about it, yet familiar at the same time. Why did somebody in Chazos want this? What was so special about it?
The ship rocked violently, immediately followed by the sound of an explosion. Without thinking, Aasira stuffed the ring into her pocket, threw her blue tailcoat on and headed up to the deck. She shoved the door open and was greeted with cold rain hitting her face.
"What the hell is going on?!" She looked around, to her horror, her crew fighting off another crew of pirates.
Who the hell's crew was this? As she quickly scanned the deck, she spotted Hope facing off against a hulking orc man.
Of course.
Captain Dular "Scar-Face" Rugohnag. One of the fiercest pirates in the world. His nickname came from the nasty scar across the middle of his face, though no one knew where he got it from. Someone in Port Bhantorum must have told him about the treasure onboard.
Aasira drew her pistol, rightfully called the Tide Turner, and shot at Scar Face to get his attention away from Hope. He turned to Aasira and she holstered Tide Turner, now brandishing her two scimitars. She flourished and twirled them a bit and Scar Face chuckled as he sauntered over to the Captain.
"The Lionheart graces us with her presence!"
"Get off my fucking ship."
"Heard you got somethin' of interest onboard!"
"I said get off my ship!" She lashed out with her scimitar and crossed blades with Scar Face. He turned his wrist and deflected, shoving her backwards. The deck was slippery with seawater and rain, so finding any kind of footing was almost impossible.
Dular rushed Aasira, his sword arcing downward towards her face. She was just a moment too late, and his blade slashed across her face. She cried out and kicked him backwards and darted across the ship towards the bow. Dular quickly caught up with her and stuck his saber under her foot and tripped her. She tumbled across the deck, one scimitar thrown from her hand. Too far away to pick it up, she thought, scrambling to her feet. She struck at him again, this time managing to connect with him and piercing his side.
They exchanged blows, evenly skilled, and Aasira thought at one moment that Dular looked impressed. He was, unfortunately, much stronger than she was, and eventually backed her up into a corner. Her only option was up the ship's figurehead; a woman with blood red eyes. She scrambled up and watched him intently, waiting for him to strike first.
"Last chance, just give me whatever it is you're hiding, and I'll let you and your miserable crew go." Dular growled.
As she balanced on the figurehead, she saw behind him most of her crew bloodied and barely holding on, the mast and a few sails on fire. They were outnumbered and outmatched.
In a last ditch effort, she pushed off the figurehead and lunged at Captain Dular, and he caught her by the throat. He turned to the side and tightened his grip, clicking his tongue.
"What a shame that the Lionheart will go down with such a lovely ship. Such an immature child," his head glanced to the side and she followed his gaze, looking back at her crew, "Now, I'm going to show you what it's like to lose."
"I'm sure you've had lots of–" she took a ragged breath– "practice."
He turned back to her and frowned. "Oh, Aasira. If only you'd learned to keep your mouth shut."
He threw her off the bow.
She hit the freezing black waters and floated downward. The strong current dragged her towards the bottom on the ocean. She struggled against it, but it was too strong and panic was setting in. Her lungs felt like they were on fire from holding her breath so long, and her eyes burned from the salt water. She stared up at the Sanguine Oblivion as her vision started to blacken at the edges. This was it. She would die to the very oceans that she called her home for so long. Without her crew, without her ship. Where the Gods can't hear.
"Aasira." A deep, old, eldritch sounding voice echoed in the back of her mind.
"I offer you a second chance. Serve me, become my eyes and ears, and I will show you powers one could only dream of. All you must say is 'yes', and my power will be yours."
I must be dreaming, hallucinating at the brink of death, she thought.
But what if it's real?
She reached out with her mind, where she felt the voice, and thought "yes". Just before the darkness took her, she thought she saw an enormous tentacle reach out towards her.
❖❖❖
The sound of small waves rolling onto the shore woke Aasira. It was day, but what day? And what time? The sky was grey, no sun in sight to determine a possible time. How long was she out? As she scanned the beach, she spotted a large piece of wood. She stood up, her legs shaking, and made her way towards it. She instantly recognized it as the piece of her ship that bore its name, though the wreckage only spelled 'Obliv'. Her blue tailcoat was still mostly intact, at least. She liked the coat.
"Miss? Are you okay?" A male voice rung called out behind her and she whipped around, a strange, pale green glow emanating from her hand as she held it up. Her eyes widened at the sudden magic, and the man backed up a step. "Woah, easy. I'm not gon' hurt ya'." He was older, maybe mid fifties, salt and pepper hair and a scruffy beard. "You a sailor? Musta wrecked in the storm a few days ago."
A few days.
Aasira put her hand down and the glowing stopped.
"Has anyone else washed up here?"
"Not that I've seen, miss. Can I get ya' anything for that scar on yer face? Don't look too good."
She reached up and touched her face and felt the uneven raw skin where a scar now showed. That motherf--
The ring.
She frantically checked her pockets and pulled the octopus ring out. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her only connection left to her crew and her ship. She thought of them at the last minute before she was thrown overboard, how terrified they looked.
"I need to find a ship." She looked up at the old man.
"What for, miss?"
"Revenge."