The Emirate of Nuru was on a peninsula directly to the North of the Semme. It was attached to the main continent at its Southwest border; an area known as the Badlands. The land there was flat with few scattered trees and scanty rainfall. Few lived there, yet that was where Apelburg, Nuru, and the Kingdom of the Semme bordered each other, at least on paper. On the ground, borders were fuzzy and it was pretty much lawless. Riders from Apelburg would raid settlements and caravans indiscriminately leaving destruction in their wake. This state of affairs repelled almost everyone, except the lowest specimens of humanity. One could say they were attracted to the Badlands.
Against logic, the population of the Badlands grew. Naturally, settlements formed and hierarchies developed. They organized themselves well enough to repel the horsemen from Apelburg. However, they never expanded outwards because their power was unconsolidated. They were scattered among a cluster of city-states that were always at each other's throats for dominion. It was the perfect climate for mercenary companies to come into being. The wars in the Badlands were short and excessively brutal.
The coastal city-states created fleets that ventured far east to attack Nuru's trade routes. Unable to catch the small fleeting pirate ships the emir decided to gather an army to head southwest and rout the rabble. A bad case of consumption put an end to his plans. Upon his sudden demise, the emirate plunged into civil war as brother turned on brother. Needless to say, the mercenaries profited heavily during this time.
A distinguished and particularly ruthless pirate named Fishbone seized the opportunity. With a majority of mercenary forces away in Nuru Fishbone led his band in conquest by violence and treachery. He was absolutely ruthless in dealing with dissenters, often ordering subhuman executions. He made the city-states pay tribute to him. Using his newfound wealth he expanded and innovated his fleet. He also made all the other captains his vassals, with him as admiral. The new pirate fleet wreaked havoc on trade routes, especially now they could project all the way east to the Middle Sea. Fishbone had become too powerful.
With Nuru in flames, and Apelburg unaffected due to a lack of trade routes in the North, it would fall to King Guitart to do something; or so Fishbone thought. As a precaution, whenever he was not at sea the ships of his fleet would be hidden in coves in the small uninhabited islands off the coast. He also introduced a rudimentary vetting system for prospective officers.
One of the people who carried out this vetting was Ramon Fonseca, also known as Ramon the Mad. He was from Quinca, East of the Middle Sea. He had been on Fishbone's crew since its formation. He even knew the fearsome pirate's real name. He was a veteran of a hundred sea battles and a thousand raids. His name invoked fear and respect among the pirate ranks. Most who met him in person found his mannerisms repulsive, hence the epithet 'Mad.' But underneath that, Ramon was smart, as smart as pirates got anyway. He also had Fishbone's trust as a longtime friend. As a reward, he had been rewarded with command of a ship of his own. 'Sangua Carne' he called it.
Fishbone had returned to shore to sell off the loot and captives he had claimed from a raiding tour. He had left Ramon and a few others in charge of the ships in his absence. Ramon himself had overseen the division and concealment of the fleet. He didn't have much to do except sit about all day sipping rum. Occasionally he would interview prospects and make sure they were not spies from some government. Such were his duties as a vetting officer.
One hot, humid afternoon as he was lounging on a hammock one of his subordinates, Forest Tim, came up to him. "Ramon Sir, Basq says he has found a girl with the potential to be a spotter." His previous spotter had fallen from the crow's nest into the sea during a storm.
"Where'd he find her?"
"A tavern in town, Sir." There were less than a hundred permanent occupants of this particular island, thus the town warranted no name. It was simply one of many of its kind.
"Bring her to me." Tim shuffled off as Ramon finished the last dregs of rum in his bottle. Moments later, a young girl who could not have hit twenty sauntered over. She had green hair, and though her swagger was careless her eyes shifted about. She was pretty in a youthful sort of way. Ramon knew he could not guarantee her safety on his ship of rough sailor men.
Ramon narrowed his eyes at her as she approached. He wanted to ask how a chrome was not drafted into the army. But if King Guitert wanted to send a spy, he probably would not have sent someone whose hair screamed military. Ramon did not fret over it however, he had ways of finding out.
He introduced himself in Semmoise before she spoke. "I am Ramon, known as the Mad, the terror of the blue seas, right hand of the pirate king and captain of the mighty ship Sangua Carne. I hear ya want to join the crew, well, that be my decision to make." He made sure his tone was loud and uneven to unsettle the girl.
She shifted uncomfortably on her heels and said, "I'm Nue, yet to make a name for myself."
Judging from her accent, Ramon had guessed right: she was a commoner from the Semme. Now he had to find out more about her by asking questions. But first, he had to know her quirk. You see, lying is a stressful business. That stress manifested in small quirk depending on the individual. It might be a slight wrinkling of the brow, or a twitching finger, or a slight stutter. Ramon was observant enough to notice minute details. All he had to do was get the girl to lie.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver statuette of a woman. It had been hideously disfigured in a fire when Ramon found it. The statuette was of no importance to him, but it was convenient for getting people to lie to him. "You see this? This is the only memory I have of my dead wife. It cost an arm and a leg to have it made." Ramon rubbed the top of it like a treasured possession.
"Uhm, okay…"
He studied her face closely. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He had told her he would decide whether she would join or not; if she was truly serious about becoming a pirate, for reasons he would soon find out, she better not upset him.
"Well, that's not the word I would use."
Ramon doubled down. "It's the most beautiful thing ya ever saw, no?" This time, there was iron in his tone.
"Yes it is." It was barely perceptible, but Ramon had caught her left eyelid twitching.
"Good, good." Now he could ask the real questions. "So, what would a fine lady like you be doing in the Badlands?"
"Looking for a pirate crew to join. Your man said I have the skills, and you have a vacancy."
"The pirate life is not an easy one, there's better ways of making a living. For example being an army mage."
"I hated the University and the army isn't appealing." Ramon verified that was true, her eyelid hadn't twitched.
"So you ran away."
"I was born poor, and I'd like to die covered in fat gold coins. I want to get rich quickly and this is the only way."
"Hah! What makes you think that?"
"I'm a trained mage. And I haven't spotted any other chromes here, so I'm definitely more powerful than any mage you have. I'm ready to make a killing." She sounded confident in herself. Proud idiots like her were easy to predict. His suspicions of her were being dispelled quickly. There was no way Nue was subtle enough to be a spy.
"Fishbone is a mage too. I've seen him calm the waters in the middle of a typhoon. Can you do anything like that?"
Nue hardly missed the beat. "I could if I tried." She truly believed that too. Ramon laughed loudly. He was completely sure she was not a spy. She was just too obvious. "What's so funny old man?"
Ramon rubbed his exposed belly and caught his breath. "You're a funny one. Gods know we need more like you, you're in."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. I'll be your captain. A quick word of warning though; I can't guarantee your safety. Some of my men long for a woman's touch if you know what I mean."
"That won't be an issue."
"Say, where are you from?"
"Bel Terra."
"I hear it's quite the beauty."
"Meh. That's not the word I'd use."
'You know I come from a village somewhere in Quinca. A proper shithole it is. Hot as sin too." Ramon fingered his dirty belly button.
"Good for you, Captain."
"No it wasn't actually. The people there got together and accused me of fucking a dog."
"What?"
"They had no proof, but who was going to believe poor old Ramon. The scoundrels ran me off with pitchforks. Have ya ever ran naked across the desert for two days with no food or shelter? Well, I have and let me tell ya, I wouldn't recommend it. I got stung by a scorpion while I slept. I survived but it left a big scar on my loins. Wanna see?"
"Certainly not...Captain."
"Shame. It's quite the sight to behold."
"Pretty sure it's not Captain." The frankness was refreshing to Ramon. He'd cultivate Nue's acquaintance. Maybe have her warm his bed in time.
"How would you know? You've never seen it." He changed topics. "Anyway, go find Basq, he'll tell you what ya need to know about ya duties." With that, Nue left. Ramon buried his toes in the sand as he watched her backside.
The rest of the day was uneventful. And so was the next, and the next. Ramon spent his time drinking and sunbathing. Basq reported to him that Nue had excellent vision and a firm belly. After testing, Basq had found out that Nue had an excellent sense of balance so she would not easily plummet from the crow's nest. Still, the previous spotter had good balance too.
In the tavern in the little town Ramon drank with Nue and his other crew to build camaraderie. His crew looked like a mismatched bunch, light-skins and dark-skins, young and old, men and a few women. All of them, including the women, had scarred faces and hard bodies, except for Nue. Most of them had dark, ugly pasts but the Badlands accepted them without judgement. Here, they had found a new family.
Ramon was surprised no one was harassing Nue. Tim told him that she had broken someone's ribs when they had groped her. Ramon tried to get into Nue's good graces. He wanted to bed her, without threat of broken ribs, of course. It was all for nought though, for try as he might Nue refused him. On the brightside he did find her amusing and funny.
After three weeks of being ashore, one week since Nue joined, Fishbone raised his banners once more. Ramon met with his Admiral in the spacious cabin of his warship. A small window let in faint moonlight. Fishbone, Ramon and an ox of a man named Citro sat together drinking rum. Ramon was the youngest in the room at 35. Fishbone was fifty, Citro was ten less. The admiral was dressed in a majestic blue longcoat that frayed at the hem, while the clean shaven Citro was in a simple rough shirt. Ramon had on his usual jacket with no shirt underneath.
Fishbone was explaining his plans to them over alcohol. He was gently combing his nimbus beard with a fish's ribcage. "Nuru is going to shit, they can't police us at all."
"It's not like they were trying before, Captain.' Citro mumbled. He always talked like his mouth was full.
"Aye, but I'm worried about King Guitert. He is bound to step in soon. He may have sent spies. We need to be more on guard."
"I think he's focused on the South for now."
"That's no reason to let our guard down. Is that chrome girl of yours a risk, Ramon?"
"No. King Guitert could have sent someone a lot less obvious if he wished to embed a spy. Nue is as she appears; a deluded young idiot."
"Might get in the way when the killing starts," Citro said, scratching his head. A shower of flecks of skin rained from his head.
"Hope not. She's a competent mage, however, University trained."
"And you let her join?"
"Escaped the draft. Said she wants to swim in doubloons."All three men laughed at that. Piracy was a lot less glamorous.
When the laughter died down, Fishbone leaned forward. "As I was saying, we shouldn't provoke the forest king. Instead, we attack Mandera."
Ramon thought he heard wrong. "You're joking right?" Citro grunted beside him.
"Do I look like the sort to joke about this? I'm serious. We will attack a port city."
"But they have defenses, this'll be a proper battle."
"You gone soft Ramon?"
"Well, no, but merchants offer way less of a fight."
"You're right, Captain. Ramon's gone soft."
"You too, Citro? How ironic for the madman to have the brains."
"As your Admiral, have I ever lost a fight?"
"We, no, but -"
"Then this time will be no different. I've hired the remaining mercs in the Badlands. We'll be able to move to a new city, governed by us, for us. And move out of the hot armpit of the continent."
"Well, if anything goes wrong it ain't on me."
"Thank you for the confidence. Now, both of you, tell your men this tomorrow…"
The following day was overcast but the men were in high spirits. The Sangua Carne had left its nondescript cove for the calm open water. On the top deck Ramon had gathered his crew to relay to them the plan. Nue herself was listening from the crow's nest on the ship's highest mass. Ramon's booming voice reached her easily. "...we wait here for the rest of the fleet then set out at first light tomorrow." Nue smiled as she thought of all the pirate ships gathered together, like fish in a barrel.
Ramon went on to elaborate on the finer points of the plan, like who was in charge of what and what exactly they would be doing during the siege. Nue listened dutifully and memorized all she could. Later on Ramon dismissed the crew and they dispersed. Some went down to their cabins but most remained to chat on the top deck. It would be suspicious if Nue secluded herself, so she moved through the crowd, waiting for someone to take the initiative to start a conversation. She put on a smile to seem more friendly. They were probably weary because earlier on someone had tried to grope her breasts and she had punched him. It was a blow strengthened by Spirit Magic, and ribs had been broken, no, shattered is a better word. It had taken the efforts of all four healer mages on the island to save the man.
"Oi! Plant head!" It was Basq. He was casually leaning on the railing, a bottle in hand. Nue sauntered over toward him. She noticed his smile, gleaming white in stark contrast to his dark skin. Nue wondered how a pirate could have such immaculate teeth. "So, we're finally getting some action. You must be happy, no?"
"I'm definitely happy to leave here."
"You can say that again. You know I once knew a woman from Mandera. They're a bunch of lazy folk."
"You 'knew' her?" Nue smiled mischievously.
"Okay, maybe I married her…"
"Oooh. Basq of the Low Seas, held down by a woman? Details please."
He waved an arm at her, to dismiss it as a trivial matter. "It was long ago. I was young and lonely."
"What happened to her? And what do you feel about attacking Mandera?"
"I left her, she was deadweight to me. I never should've married her. We never got officially divorced, so I guess I'm still married. As for Mandera, the city could do with a change of master."
"How long did you live there?"
"Did I give the impression I lived there? No matter. I grew up in a village in the city outskirts, outside the land walls. I was abandoned with no family. I was alone, and it gnawed at my heart. When I turned sixteen I found myself a wife. It was a horrible existence, I hated every moment. One day a man came through looking for sailors. I joined, and left my wife. That was about fifteen years ago. The Captain who recruited me came to be known as Fishbone."
"You don't keep in touch with your wife?"
"No, not really. I don't even know if she's still alive." He swept his gaze across the crew. "Look around you Greenhair." A majority of the crew were still carousing. The mood was light. At a glance the crew seemed mismatched, with all kinds of ethnicities present. But they were held together by an unseen bond. Basq continued: "We've been through the jaws of death together. We trust each other and the captain with our lives. These people are my family, I would do anything for them. Most importantly, in dire straits, I know I can trust them." He looked pointedly at Nue. "Can I trust you?"
Nue looked straight into his eyes and lied. "Yes, you can."
By that nighttime several ships had arranged themselves around the Sangua Carne. The crew served dinner and chatted excited as they ate. They regaled tall tales and possible futures for what they would do with the riches they won in Mandera. Nue listened and said little. Nobody paid her any heed. Despite her efforts she had gained a reputation as frigid. Not that it mattered anyway. "I'm going up for some air," she said to the men next to her, who just grunted, pleased to be rid of her.
Nue climbed up to the crow's nest on the highest mast of the ship. In the starlight she could see the forest of masts rising up from the waters as far as she could see. Fishbone's fleet. The stuff of legends and many a nightmare. Her mission was almost complete.
The body is the physical container for the spirit. Where the body goes, the spirit follows. The inverse is true as well, where the spirit goes, the body follows. Unlike the body, the spirit does not heed the laws of physics. Nue concentrated and lifted her spirit into the air. Her feet noiselessly left the ground. She was flying. Nue flew straight up, lest someone spotted her. Once she was high enough she pulled out a compass, and headed southwest in a straight line.
Nue reached the mainland and started searching the plains for a hill with the gnarled tree on top. She spotted it and descended. She gracefully landed in the front of the dozen or so pitched tents. She headed into the largest. It was spacious on the inside, and covered with some furnishings and a carpet. Romane was buried in a book and didn't notice Nue. Sabrina was knitting and her big eyes looked at Nue. She had gotten used to the elf, but they were not exactly friends. Nue cleared her throat. "You really should post a guard."
Romane looked up. "Ah, darling Nue. Sarle should be out there."
"I didn't see her, and don't call me darling, I might get the wrong ideas."
"Whatever you say. News?"
"Fishbone has gathered his fleet, about twenty kilometres northeast of here. They are to set out tomorrow. Their numbers are as we expected."
"Tomorrow? That's too soon." Romane stopped to think. "We need to hit them before they raise anchor." A majority of mages specialized in precise spells with small controllable areas of effect. Not the Maces though. They were all battle mages. Whereas most other mages in the army could be compared to rapiers, Romane's team could only be compared to Maces; imprecise but catastrophically destructive. "Get changed Nue, we move out soon."
Romane thumped her book shut and got out of her tent. Nue slipped into Amani's tent. Amani herself was curled on her bedroll, fast asleep. Nue shook her awake. "Hey, hey. We're moving out."
"Now?"
"Yep, could you help me change?"
Outside, Romane shouted: "Attention everyone! We're moving out. Prepare quickly."
Fifteen minutes later they formed ranks outside Romane's tent. They were resplendent in their all-black uniforms, their long coats seemed to drink the light. Romane emerged followed by Sabrina; her adjutant. As their leader, Romane's collar was fastened with a small, shiny silver chain. She furrowed her brows as she looked over them. "Where the fuck is Sarle? And Rarlan where's your brother?"
Rarlan turned red. "With Sarle, I think, Captain."
"Find them." Rarlan scurried off. A few minutes later he came back with Raina and Sarle, whose nightclothes looked ruffled. They were both red faced.
Raina opened his mouth to speak but Romane cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. I'll deal with you later. Get ready, we're moving against Fishbone in a few."
When the two lovers were ready they joined the ranks. Romane addressed them all: "Now that you're all here, let me give you a refresher. Fishbone has assembled his fleet and they set out tomorrow. Their destination is irrelevant as they will never raise anchor. We are to fly to them, led by Newt, and annihilate them. Fishbone is a legendary figure, but I am certain he stands no chance against the Maces. They will speak our names for centuries after this. Not to mention a sexy looking promotion will be awaiting back at the Capital." Romane looked like she remembered something. "Oh, and the enemy might have mages. Disregard them and focus on maximising damage. Right, now then, are you ready to make a mark on naval history?"
"Yes Captain!"
"Nue, lead the way."
The Maces took to the sky as one, on their way to bring death to unsuspecting vagabonds.