Advent of Eternity - Chapter 20 (Patreon)

The group caught sight of Blackfoot Bay four days later, just as the sun started to rise over the horizon. A large, halfmoon shaped island with a jagged mountain at its back loomed over the sea and obscured the sun as it rose.

A huge wooden city covered the majority of the island. Houses several stories high stood on stilts, suspended over the water and each other. Dozens of boats lined the inside of the bay, ranging from small skippers to enormous galleons.

Six towers poked out above the rest of the buildings, each with a house sized ballista perched at their top. Jasneh shifted from foot to foot as they sailed into the bay, passing by the towers situated at either end of the half moon.

“Would you look at that,” Cyll said, letting out a slow whistle. “Big.”

“How eloquent,” Stix said.

“It is,” Cyll defended, crossing his arms. “Oh man, it looks like so much fun. What do you think they’ve got in there? I can’t wait to find out.”

“Don’t do anything without my permission,” Knell said. “We don’t need to start trouble before we’re ready to.”

Knell strode up to the edge of the ship as they grew closer to the docks at the center of the bay. Jasneh grabbed wheel near the side of the ship and started cranking it, raising the sails. She hit a paddle near the base of the wheel.

Chains clanked below them as the anchor dropped, thudding into the ocean floor a few seconds later. The Foamrunner drew up alongside the deck, rocking gently in the small waves.

“Off with you, then,” Jasneh said. “Before someone tries to board the Foamrunner.”

Cyll hopped onto the deck and grabbed Knell by the back of his shirt, plopping the shorter man down beside himself. He offered a hand to Stix, who ignored it and jumped onto the deck on her own.

“Thanks for the trip,” Knell said.

Jasneh shook her head and pressed another paddle. Chains clattered as a mechanism within the ship started to raise the anchor once more. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Stix said, raising a hand. Knell turned and started down the dock, the thud of his staff on the dock marking every other footstep. His crew followed behind him.

A grizzled man with a bushy black beard man sitting on a barrel glanced up at them as they approached. His lips split in a grin, revealing rows of stained and rotting teeth.

“Who’re you?” he asked, laying a hand on the hilt of the scimitar at his side. He smelled of saltwater and poor wine. “Not no adventurers, are you? We tossed the last lot in the ocean after they came squeaking along.”

“Pirates,” Knell replied. “Or at least, we hope to be.”

The bearded man raised an eyebrow and glanced around. He nodded in the direction of the Foamrunner, which was steadily putting distance between itself and the dock. “Yer ship is sailing away.”

“That’s not my ship,” Knell replied. “It was a loaner.”

The pirate snorted. “Right. Well, truth be told, ye don’t look much like an ‘venturer. Yer a real ugly bastard. How’d that happen?”

Stix flipped a dagger into her hand and pointed it at the man’s chin. “How’s it your business?”

“Weapons down, Stix,” Knell said, adjusting his grip on the end of his staff and putting some more weight onto it. “I appreciate you trying to defend me, but I’ve heard worse. We don’t need to get into pointless fights.”

“You can’t just let these people do what they want around you,” Stix snapped, not lowering her dagger. “If you’re going to be a pirate, you need to establish that you’re a threat so that people respect you. We’ll never get a wink of sleep otherwise.”

The bearded man let out a cackle. “Girlie’s right, lad. Not many a pirate with a silver tongue.”

“Not many doesn’t mean none,” Knell said. “But, since you seem to have taken to us, I don’t suppose you could point me in the direction of who I might talk with to get situated?”

“Situated,” the man snorted. He spat on the dock and hopped off his barrel. “I been bored today, and something tells me this might be fun. What’s the name?”

“I go by Knell. My crewmates are Cyll and Stix.”

“That’s a pirate’s name, Knell. I be Kalunga,” the man said, waving for them to follow him and starting toward the city waiting for them at the edge of the docks.

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Stix whispered.

“Of course not,” Knell replied. “Don’t forget where we are. But it’s as good a starting point as any. If Blackfoot Bay were completely run by ruffians, nobody would ever come here. I’ve heard there’s a certain degree of decorum that people stick to while docked.”

“Right you are,” Kalunga said, swinging himself onto a rickety stairwell that protruded from a three story building to their side. He ambled up it like a monkey, arriving at the top within seconds and grinning down at them with his gap-toothed smile.

“Ah. My greatest nemesis,” Knell muttered as he started up at a much slower rate. “Stairs.”

An open door greeted them when they reached the top. Kalunga had already gone through and was sitting to the side of the room. Across from them, a large woman sat before her desk, spinning a dagger in her hand as she looked over some papers.

She was easily as tall as Cyll, but completely musclebound. Her hair had been tied up into a tight ponytail, and she wore metal and leather armor that protected her vital areas without restricting her movement. Scars crisscrossed her arms, but her face and neck were unwounded.

“You’ve brought me more refuse, Kalunga,” the woman said, driving the dagger into the desk.

“They got the smell of pirates. Would you have preferred I bring them to Vorgen?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I would. What is this – a cripple, a beggar, and a prostitute?”

“I didn’t realize the standards of prostitutes had risen so greatly in recent years,” Cyll said, glancing down at himself. “I suppose my beard does have a certain appeal to it.”