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Slaeglac’s Island
“Hannah, You bastard. You swivin’ bastard of a whoreson.†Everard had rarely seen his captain sweat as much as he was right now, as rivulets of perspiration poured down Slaeglac’s face, collecting in his scars and following clear and simple patterns. The weather couldn’t account for it - it had to be stress. The crowd surrounding the confrontation surely did little to help matters.
“Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this, Captain.†Hannah Half-Gil flashed a brilliant smile, the gold in her teeth managing to catch sun even on a cloudy day. The Lucky Lord had only made its way into the colony harbor not twelve bells ago, and she had already made her move. “You know I don’t play without an angle.â€
“Damned if that ain’t so, Hannah. Wildest gunner I ever had, an’ even this’s a longshot.†Slaeglac paused to wipe his brow, and raised his hand to the sky for a too long of a moment before bringing it back down to the earth. Everard had little faith, despite the hopeful gesture. The captain had only two moves left to him, and neither promised an easy victory.
The crowd gasped. Even Half-Gil looked shocked for a moment. “Thordan? When in the seven hells did you get him in your deck?!â€
Slaeglac said nothing, a smug expression on his face as card after card shuffled from red to blue in the captain’s favor. “And what’s the trouble with that? It’s a reliable card! And the rest is your own damn fault for wanting to play with Same.â€
Frowning, Hannah threw down her last, a mere chocobo. Fallen Ace ensured she captured Thordan, but it was a poor comfort in the face of the upset. She pushed away the board and shoved a small sack of gil in its place. “Double or nothing?†Her words were almost unheard amongst the cheers of the colonists.
“Ohhh no, Hannah. I know better’n to play more’n one round of anything with you. You can fleece anyone else in the fleet if they haven’t the sense to say no, but that’s it.†Forcing himself to his feet with a grunt, he helped the captain of the Lord up and clapped her on the back as the crowd broke apart to their normal duties. “Glad you made it. After the Dirge ne’er showed I feared the worst.â€
“Like I’d pass up this kind’ve bet, Slae. No, we caught wind of a Sister in the ranks on the way back from Garlean waters, had to sail in circles till we found ‘er and tossed her over. An’ a good thing we found you, hey? Guardin’ the place with but two sail an’ some sunken tin-can.â€
She sucked on one of her teeth as she glanced out to harbor. Everard silently agreed with the assessment, but did not share Half-Gil’s confidence that her arrival would make all the difference. The Lord made the last of the invited vessels. The Dirge’s continued absence suggested she had declined, as had all of the crew of the Warbull save Balther Wright. And the tragedy of the Maiden’s Wound had come to them over time. Slaeglac had excused himself and drunk himself half-sick that evening.
All told, they had half a squadron amongst themselves for defense against the Maelstrom’s nine and the Foreign Levy’s hordes. The Garleans lent a hand, as they’d promised. The captain seemed satisfied with that - secrecy, distance, and whatever chaos was roiling in Vylbrand as brewed by the Merchant and the Marine seemed to be helping.
In Everard’s view, it couldn’t last. Limsa was chaotic, but if they felt a threat severe enough to threaten their sovereignty, the ships would come together, and that would be the end of it. All the more reason to ensure their resources were sufficiently indispensable by the time the Maelstrom’s troubles settled.
“Sawyer!†The captain’s bark brought him out of his thoughts. “Check on the reapers, would you? I heard some of the crowd grumbling that they’re not moving like they ought. He’s a head for these things, you know, Hannah. Old Syndicate engineer. Fine thing I found him at the right moment, isn’t it?â€
“Stands to make us all some good coin, I’ll wager.†Half-Gil grinned. Everard hadn’t noticed how much of her teeth were actually gold until just now. “I’ve some good coin for him myself, if he’s willing.â€
“If you’ll excuse me, captains,†said Everard, whose legs could not move quickly enough. “I’ll just be off to check on the farms.†He caught a few traces of conversation.on his way out.
“How’d y’find this place, anyhow? Freestandin’ ceruleum an’ no Syndicate?â€
“Aye, well, you remember that island we rousted on our first voyage? One wi’ all them odd sahagin?â€
“No, this’s the same? Gods, it’s been years... “
And then it was gone. Everard exhaled in relief, and slowed his pace, taking in the state of the colony. It had grown nicely in the past moon. Any fear the sailors and their families had towards living in homes built from Garlean steel had passed after the first hard rain, and now they went about their business as if nothing was awry. The pirates had grumbled about farming at first, but faced with that or living on shipped supplies, they’d taken to a few crops that seemed to suit the climate: popotoes and other root vegetables, things that grew quick and had a high yield.
Unfortunately, they had to be dug up, and that made matters a little difficult for the modified reapers the Merchant had shipped to them to aid the harvest.
Coming upon the farms, Everard immediately ran forward, arms outstretched. “Stop, stop, stop! Stop now.†The pilot of the reaper at the edge of the farms paused, and its legs halted mid-stride, wobbling slightly before coming to rest. A few farmers lingering at the edge of the fields, still afraid of something that was, to them, little more than a weapon of war, began edging forwards again.
“Let’s see.†Everard glanced under the reaper’s chassis, just between the legs. The modifications had been significant, outlined by the Merchant in instructions provided with the shipment. With the magitek cannon and photon stream removed, the interior had been gutted to allow for a rotating popoto fork and sieve for sorting out dirt. Between that and a removable sack meant for holding the harvested crop, the reaper could, in theory, carve out a row of popotoes in a fraction of the time it could be done by hand.
In theory. In practice, the damned thing was better for threshing wheat and millioncorn with blades in place of the spinning fork. The rotation mechanism had a tendency to scrape underneath the cockpit’s chassis, and the last thing Everard or the pilot wanted was to see a suddenly uncomfortable and traumatized farmer unable to sit again, to say nothing of damage to the reaper itself.
“Everything all right down there, Sawyer?†Everard ignored the call, tapping his finger against the belly of the beast. Some sort of extension mechanism, perhaps, with a smaller fork, and some way of sieving out the dirt attached to the extension . . . yes, that could work.
“Sawyer?â€
“It’s fine. Dismount, and finish the row by hand.†He slapped the belly of the reaper. “I’ll pilot it out, and we’ll see about fixing it later.â€
The man wasn’t one of the Tumult’s crew, not one that Everard recognized, but he followed the order fairly enough. One concern of his that had been allayed was how to handle command with first two, and now three captains in one colony. But there’d been no problems - people took the tasks that interested them, or that they were at least skilled enough to handle, and disputes got handled with arguments, compromises, and the occasional brawl. It was no real system of governance, he thought as he climbed into the pilot’s seat,  but as small as the island was, did it need to be?
“First mate! A moment, if you please!†A few seconds of reacquainting himself with the controls of the reaper, and Everard found himself distracted by a pair of figures approaching from further afield. They weren’t hard to recognize - there weren’t but a few elezen among the crew, and even fewer of those were duskwights. Slaeglac had picked them up as unrated seamen six moons ago. They were nowhere near able, but did their work well enough as long as they were kept as a pair.
A quick turn of the reaper’s key and the thrum of its engine died to better hear them as they drew near. “Help the two of you? No problems clearing out the western field?â€
The woman of the pair only glared - Everard had never seen eyes that could kill the way hers did - but the man squeezed her shoulder companionably, and she glanced away. “No trouble ‘tall, Mister Sawyer. Only she and I were wondering - when’s the next supply boat?â€
“Captain has the knowing of that better than I, sir. You want something from it, best submit it to him.â€
The man shook his head. “Oh, nothing like that, Mister Sawyer. Only we’ve a mind to be on the next one when it leaves.â€
Everard’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not thinking of turning tail, are you?†The captain had been clear anyone unhappy was free to leave on the supply runs, no questions asked, so confident was he in their security, but none had yet taken him up on the offer. It made sense that no true sailors would be the first.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and her lip took on something of a sneer. “Easy, pet, easy,†said her companion. “He means no harm. No, Mister Sawyer, only - there’s a woman, from that crew the Captain let pass.a moon back. We’ve a mind to speak with her, see if she’ll see some sense.â€
Sawyer grumbled to himself as he turned on the reaper again, taking some comfort in the rumble of its engine. “Let me get this out of the field, Guerrique. Then we’ll have a word with the captain.â€
“Hannah, You bastard. You swivin’ bastard of a whoreson.†Everard had rarely seen his captain sweat as much as he was right now, as rivulets of perspiration poured down Slaeglac’s face, collecting in his scars and following clear and simple patterns. The weather couldn’t account for it - it had to be stress. The crowd surrounding the confrontation surely did little to help matters.
“Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this, Captain.†Hannah Half-Gil flashed a brilliant smile, the gold in her teeth managing to catch sun even on a cloudy day. The Lucky Lord had only made its way into the colony harbor not twelve bells ago, and she had already made her move. “You know I don’t play without an angle.â€
“Damned if that ain’t so, Hannah. Wildest gunner I ever had, an’ even this’s a longshot.†Slaeglac paused to wipe his brow, and raised his hand to the sky for a too long of a moment before bringing it back down to the earth. Everard had little faith, despite the hopeful gesture. The captain had only two moves left to him, and neither promised an easy victory.
The crowd gasped. Even Half-Gil looked shocked for a moment. “Thordan? When in the seven hells did you get him in your deck?!â€
Slaeglac said nothing, a smug expression on his face as card after card shuffled from red to blue in the captain’s favor. “And what’s the trouble with that? It’s a reliable card! And the rest is your own damn fault for wanting to play with Same.â€
Frowning, Hannah threw down her last, a mere chocobo. Fallen Ace ensured she captured Thordan, but it was a poor comfort in the face of the upset. She pushed away the board and shoved a small sack of gil in its place. “Double or nothing?†Her words were almost unheard amongst the cheers of the colonists.
“Ohhh no, Hannah. I know better’n to play more’n one round of anything with you. You can fleece anyone else in the fleet if they haven’t the sense to say no, but that’s it.†Forcing himself to his feet with a grunt, he helped the captain of the Lord up and clapped her on the back as the crowd broke apart to their normal duties. “Glad you made it. After the Dirge ne’er showed I feared the worst.â€
“Like I’d pass up this kind’ve bet, Slae. No, we caught wind of a Sister in the ranks on the way back from Garlean waters, had to sail in circles till we found ‘er and tossed her over. An’ a good thing we found you, hey? Guardin’ the place with but two sail an’ some sunken tin-can.â€
She sucked on one of her teeth as she glanced out to harbor. Everard silently agreed with the assessment, but did not share Half-Gil’s confidence that her arrival would make all the difference. The Lord made the last of the invited vessels. The Dirge’s continued absence suggested she had declined, as had all of the crew of the Warbull save Balther Wright. And the tragedy of the Maiden’s Wound had come to them over time. Slaeglac had excused himself and drunk himself half-sick that evening.
All told, they had half a squadron amongst themselves for defense against the Maelstrom’s nine and the Foreign Levy’s hordes. The Garleans lent a hand, as they’d promised. The captain seemed satisfied with that - secrecy, distance, and whatever chaos was roiling in Vylbrand as brewed by the Merchant and the Marine seemed to be helping.
In Everard’s view, it couldn’t last. Limsa was chaotic, but if they felt a threat severe enough to threaten their sovereignty, the ships would come together, and that would be the end of it. All the more reason to ensure their resources were sufficiently indispensable by the time the Maelstrom’s troubles settled.
“Sawyer!†The captain’s bark brought him out of his thoughts. “Check on the reapers, would you? I heard some of the crowd grumbling that they’re not moving like they ought. He’s a head for these things, you know, Hannah. Old Syndicate engineer. Fine thing I found him at the right moment, isn’t it?â€
“Stands to make us all some good coin, I’ll wager.†Half-Gil grinned. Everard hadn’t noticed how much of her teeth were actually gold until just now. “I’ve some good coin for him myself, if he’s willing.â€
“If you’ll excuse me, captains,†said Everard, whose legs could not move quickly enough. “I’ll just be off to check on the farms.†He caught a few traces of conversation.on his way out.
“How’d y’find this place, anyhow? Freestandin’ ceruleum an’ no Syndicate?â€
“Aye, well, you remember that island we rousted on our first voyage? One wi’ all them odd sahagin?â€
“No, this’s the same? Gods, it’s been years... “
And then it was gone. Everard exhaled in relief, and slowed his pace, taking in the state of the colony. It had grown nicely in the past moon. Any fear the sailors and their families had towards living in homes built from Garlean steel had passed after the first hard rain, and now they went about their business as if nothing was awry. The pirates had grumbled about farming at first, but faced with that or living on shipped supplies, they’d taken to a few crops that seemed to suit the climate: popotoes and other root vegetables, things that grew quick and had a high yield.
Unfortunately, they had to be dug up, and that made matters a little difficult for the modified reapers the Merchant had shipped to them to aid the harvest.
Coming upon the farms, Everard immediately ran forward, arms outstretched. “Stop, stop, stop! Stop now.†The pilot of the reaper at the edge of the farms paused, and its legs halted mid-stride, wobbling slightly before coming to rest. A few farmers lingering at the edge of the fields, still afraid of something that was, to them, little more than a weapon of war, began edging forwards again.
“Let’s see.†Everard glanced under the reaper’s chassis, just between the legs. The modifications had been significant, outlined by the Merchant in instructions provided with the shipment. With the magitek cannon and photon stream removed, the interior had been gutted to allow for a rotating popoto fork and sieve for sorting out dirt. Between that and a removable sack meant for holding the harvested crop, the reaper could, in theory, carve out a row of popotoes in a fraction of the time it could be done by hand.
In theory. In practice, the damned thing was better for threshing wheat and millioncorn with blades in place of the spinning fork. The rotation mechanism had a tendency to scrape underneath the cockpit’s chassis, and the last thing Everard or the pilot wanted was to see a suddenly uncomfortable and traumatized farmer unable to sit again, to say nothing of damage to the reaper itself.
“Everything all right down there, Sawyer?†Everard ignored the call, tapping his finger against the belly of the beast. Some sort of extension mechanism, perhaps, with a smaller fork, and some way of sieving out the dirt attached to the extension . . . yes, that could work.
“Sawyer?â€
“It’s fine. Dismount, and finish the row by hand.†He slapped the belly of the reaper. “I’ll pilot it out, and we’ll see about fixing it later.â€
The man wasn’t one of the Tumult’s crew, not one that Everard recognized, but he followed the order fairly enough. One concern of his that had been allayed was how to handle command with first two, and now three captains in one colony. But there’d been no problems - people took the tasks that interested them, or that they were at least skilled enough to handle, and disputes got handled with arguments, compromises, and the occasional brawl. It was no real system of governance, he thought as he climbed into the pilot’s seat,  but as small as the island was, did it need to be?
“First mate! A moment, if you please!†A few seconds of reacquainting himself with the controls of the reaper, and Everard found himself distracted by a pair of figures approaching from further afield. They weren’t hard to recognize - there weren’t but a few elezen among the crew, and even fewer of those were duskwights. Slaeglac had picked them up as unrated seamen six moons ago. They were nowhere near able, but did their work well enough as long as they were kept as a pair.
A quick turn of the reaper’s key and the thrum of its engine died to better hear them as they drew near. “Help the two of you? No problems clearing out the western field?â€
The woman of the pair only glared - Everard had never seen eyes that could kill the way hers did - but the man squeezed her shoulder companionably, and she glanced away. “No trouble ‘tall, Mister Sawyer. Only she and I were wondering - when’s the next supply boat?â€
“Captain has the knowing of that better than I, sir. You want something from it, best submit it to him.â€
The man shook his head. “Oh, nothing like that, Mister Sawyer. Only we’ve a mind to be on the next one when it leaves.â€
Everard’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not thinking of turning tail, are you?†The captain had been clear anyone unhappy was free to leave on the supply runs, no questions asked, so confident was he in their security, but none had yet taken him up on the offer. It made sense that no true sailors would be the first.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and her lip took on something of a sneer. “Easy, pet, easy,†said her companion. “He means no harm. No, Mister Sawyer, only - there’s a woman, from that crew the Captain let pass.a moon back. We’ve a mind to speak with her, see if she’ll see some sense.â€
Sawyer grumbled to himself as he turned on the reaper again, taking some comfort in the rumble of its engine. “Let me get this out of the field, Guerrique. Then we’ll have a word with the captain.â€
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Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine