The Last Lands

CHAPTER 14 HATRED AND METAL

Artifae was thrown onto his knees by rough hands. Everywhere around him the brigands sneered and laughed. His hands were on the top of his head. He exchanged quick glances with Ban and Misha. He could feel his heart pounding, but his head was strangely clear. He saw grim determination in the others eyes, except for Kutja. Through the sweat and mud, he could see the Bronze Dvergr was trembling.

A scarred Fisher-goblin laid a spear towards Artie's neck, but he didn't let the fear set in. The goblin was gangly, with grey skin almost as dark as Busco's. His dirty black hair was tied up into a topknot, and he reeked of fish.

Stay calm. Gotta think of something.

The leader of the rabble was a bald Night-Orkan, with lilac skin and incisors that dropped to his bottom lip. He was lean, with a bow and arrow around his shoulder, and several necklaces and talismans below his chin.

“Who's your leader here?” He growled.

The crew remained silent, but Artie glanced at Ban, and it was noted. Ban's gaze was cool and collected, but anger was brimming behind their pale eyes.

“Is it you?” The Orkan asked.

Ban remained silent, their hands behind their head.

The Night-Orkan leant down to meet them in the eyes.

“You gonna tell me what you lot are doin' here?”

Still, there was silence.

“We're just explorers.” Artie said, without thinking.

The gaze of the pirates was turned slowly to him.

“Oh yeah?” The Orkan asked, turning to meet him slowly.

He crept closer to Artie, the smell of Ship-Shine on his breath.

“And what was it you explorers found?”

Artie struggled to think of something, but behind the Orkan he could see something moving on Ban's skin.

That's it.

“Treasure.” Artie said, trying not to sound gleeful.

The rabble around him murmured quietly. The Orkan watched them, and snarled at Artie.

“What treasure?”

C'mon, gotta think of something, something that wasn't just old bracelets or skeletons.

“He's lying.” Misha barked. “We didn't find anything, except a load of skulls.”

The Orkan chuckled.

“So you found them ruins, did you?”

He stood up and addressed the other members of his gang.

“They didn't find anything.” He sneered, turning back to Artifae. “How many more of you are there?”

No matter what I answer to that, it's not good news. Gotta try and distract them.

Something black flew off of Ban's back, quickly and unseen. It soared like a small bird, dark as ink, past the coast and towards the inlet, where The Hunnigan's Glory laid in waiting.

Now, go in for the kill.

“We did find something.” He said as if in automation. “In the skull room. There was treasure there too. There was a skull made of...pure gold.”

The smiles from the pirates quickly faded, and they looked amongst themselves. Artie felt his own smile growing, seeing that they took the bait. His own crew looked between each-other, confused. Ban continued to stare at Artie, simultaneously figuring out his plan, and waiting for when to strike.

There, that'll do for a distraction.

The Night-Orkan flared with anger, his large nostrils flaring. A hand with long nails enclosed his throat, and malicious yellow eyes looked deep into his.

“You saw the golden skull?” He breathed.

The grip was so tight, Artie couldn't answer. Misha gave a pleading look to the Orkan, who reluctantly released his grip, leaving Artie gasping.

X almighty. If people are gonna keep doing that to me, I might have to start charging.

The Orkan stood to his full height.

“Where?” He snarled angrily.

“We saw it in the skull room. He opened it.” He said, nodding towards the still scared Kutja.

The Orkan turned to the Bronze Dvergr and leered like an animal at him. Kutja still trembled, Ol' Beauty already procured by a skinny Feline with purple and black fur and a tricorn hat. The cat-like pirate held his sabre to Kutja's throat, the large gun tied up behind their back.

“So you have it?”

“We hid it.” Ban said calmly. “Near the ruins.”

“Why?” The Orkan asked.

Ban shrugged, remaining as calm and collected as they could.

“There was a lot of valuable stuff we hid away. Couldn't take it back in all one go, could we?” They said, almost wearily.

The Orkan grumbled to himself, rubbing his chin.

“So I take it this skull is more valuable than we thought, right?” Artie asked, feigning hope.

The Orkan crossed his arms, studying the group, unsure fo what to make of it all.

There's an actual golden skull here somewhere. What are the chances of that? Still, if it is somewhere around here, it didn't look like it was in that skull room.

The Fisher-Goblin fidgeted with the spear, still hovering it near Artifae's throat.

“So what do we do?” He asked in a raspy voice.

The Orkan exhaled loudly, nostrils still flaring.

“Take 'em.” He growled. “We'll take 'em to see the boss first, they'll no if they're tellin' the truth.”

The pirates began barking orders and ushering the group up, who were forced into solitary file, with their hands still placed on their heads. They were marched along the beach, further up than where they had breached the jungle. Eventually the sand and rocks gave way to grassy dunes. They stumbled clumsily up them. The tall, dancing grasses were sharp against Artifae's exposed arms as he steadied himself against the thick, soft sand. He gave one last look towards the estuary. It looked like there were black dots on the water, moving towards them.

Once more they were pressed into the unforgiving jungle, but always with the river adjacent. It was much cooler, but the insects were somehow even more abundant. Not just flies and mosquitoes, but wasps and bees. The air was drier but cool than when they had made their way to the city. After fifteen minutes of marching with their captors, the jungle gave way to a tall field of ferns. The thick leaves brushed against them as they made their way forward. The jungle surrounded like verdant walls, and they were led up a hill, when they heard the repeated sounds of thunder. The ground began to shake, and something large trumpeted. A tree fell within in the jungle, and a great host of different coloured birds escaped into the air.

Artifae struggled to keep his composure, as his crew looked amongst themselves in panic, but the pirates laughed as they signalled a stop. From within the trees, the crashing of thousands of plants heralded the arrival of a great herd of beast. They were large, with stone-grey hides. Thick trunk-like legs fed into a thick body, with short, thin tails. They were at least twelve foot-tall, with large fan-like ears. There was a strange protrusion from the front of their faces, a short, wrinkled trunk. The largest one was at the head, with the younger children hiding between them. Misha laughed behind him as they all took in the graceful giants, who entered from one side of the jungle, and left to the other, presumably for a cool drink in the river. Something glinted under their chins in the sunlight. Each of them had two tusks springing out from the bottom of their chins, curving downwards like daggers.

“What are they?” Ban asked.

The Fisher-Goblin shrugged, holding his spear loosely. The creatures sounded their horns, occasionally throwing a glance towards the staring motley on top of the hill.

“Monsters, I guess.” He said, almost bored. “Don't seem aggressive though.”

“Still, I wouldn't want to fight 'em.” The Feline said jovially, and Kutja glowered at him from behind.

Artie looked at Ban, who set with a serious look. They nodded.

Is that a signal...or?

The Night-Orkan took the lead of the group again.

“That's enough gawkin'.” He shouted. “Time to get a wriggle on.”

Artie began to stare into space, wondering if he should start swinging.

“You. C'mon lad, time to get movin'.”

This is it. Gotta do something, again.

He looked the Night-Orkan dead in the eye. He gritted his teeth, expelled all of his anger through his eyes. He began breathing heavily, his heart started drumming in his ears.

“What?” The Orkan asked, beginning to look almost concerned. “What's the matter?”

Now.

Artie felt the tension build in his hands, as he slowly lowered them. The concern in the Orkan's eyes began to filter out, becoming replaced with anger. He went to move his hands, when Artie relaxed, and stood bolt-upright.

“Oof!” He called out dramatically.

The Orkan was taken back, unsure of what was happening. Taking advantage of this, Artie began to convulse slightly, contorting his hands towards his stomach, and moaning.

“Oh no!” He called out.

The entire group was looking at him now, completely confused, when he fell backwards, and began to convulse further.

“Help! Help! I think the treasure...has...cursed...ack...me!”

The Orkan crept closer to him, looking towards any member of the group for assistance, but none could be provided.

“What's happening?” He cried.

“Cursed...so...cursed...” Artie said, curling up into fetal position. “Cannot control...body...”

His arm raised up slowly, his middle finger was extended. The realisation sank into the Moon-Orkan quickly, his bottom lip quivering, as Artifae struggled not to laugh. Before the Orkan could reach for his dagger, Ban had pounced upon him. Their pale arms wrapped around the Orkan's waist as Ban's shoulder barrelled into him, draining the air out of their captor. The two rolled down the hill in a scuffle, when the rest of the crew seized their chance.

Misha sent an elbow behind her, colliding with a Northman's face and drawing blood as he stumbled backwards. She darted forwards, her palms open in the tradition of Islanda, sending the heel of her palm into the forehead of a nother Orkan, forcing him to stumble backwards, dizzy. Their Mud-goblin compatriate locked into combat with the Fisher-Goblin, rekindling an ancient rivalry as the two dragged each-other down into the grassy dirt. Kutja roared as he leapt upon the terrified Feline, trying to pull the gun away from their claws. Artifae jumped upwards, watching the chaos unfurl. Although they had the element of surprise, the brigands still outnumbered them. A skinny mountain eve with a halberd charged him, the spear-point trained on Artie missed and sunk into the ground. Artie bounded out of the way, as different crew members tackled one another.

Below the hill, Ban had wrestled on top of the Orkan, slowly drawing the executioner blades from both of their wrists. Their hands were pressed down onto their assailants face, into the mud, as the black blades hovered above their quarry.

“Wait! Ban, don't do it!” Artifae called out.

Ban turned, confused and angry.

“Whattaya talkin' about?” They snarled, giving the Orkan time to reach for their dagger.

Ban saw the fear in Artifae's face as the Orkan retrieved the dagger, and looked back to the pirate they straddled. They dodged backwards, off of the lying figure, but not quick enough. The crude knife bit Ban in the side, ripping their vest and spilling some blood. They called out as the Orkan pushed Ban off, and grinned cruelly at Artifae.

This is it, time to do something!

Artifae had no plan, but met the intimidating figure with a look of steely determination, and walked towards him as the fight ragged on behind them. Suddenly, there was a thunderous explosion. All heads turned round to the Dvergr on the hill, with a smoking hand-cannon and a grim smile. The feline had a burning hole in their chest and remained still. A sudden, forlorn silence fell upon the site, where no member of either crew moved, but a determined fear had descended on all of them. Kutja smiled, blowing the steam off of Ol' Beauty, and waiting to meet the eyes of her next target.

The Moon-Orkan paled, gasping for words.

“Re...retreat!” He called, bolting away from the group.

The other members immediately followed him, bounding down the hill, as the victorious scouting party whooped and hollered. Ban watched his crew with exasperation as the pirates fled, heading towards the trees where the great grey beasts emerged from previously.

“What you clods doing?” They called out. “Don't let 'em get away, they know where the treasure is!”

Realisation set in, and the crew began making chase. Artie lingered as Ban walked towards him, their red hand cupping their wound.

“You can stay here.” They hissed as they passed.

A deep set of shame and guilt sank Artie to the ground.

“Sorry Ban, I just didn't-”

“Think? Yeah, I got that. You stay here and wait for the captain, we'll go find the treasure.”

Artie sighed drearily, and watched as Ban sent out their black-bird from their back once more. The inky creature leapt, gliding through air and over the trees.

“They're over there!” Ban called out, running to meet the others.

Artie remained on his feet, strewn amongst disposed dirt and a dead Feline pirate. Flies already descended on the corpse's caved in chest. The smell in the heat was revolting, but Artie reached for a curved cutlass by their side and retrieved it.

I can't stay here, waiting for the captain, even if I've only got this cat's sword, I have to try and help.

There was another thunderous shot from the gun beyond the trees, more birds scattered. In the distance was the sound of trumpeting giants. He descended down the hill as the last of his crew disappeared into the jungle. He ran quickly over the fern covered floor, stumbling from displaced earth. As he reached the tree-line, the sounds of battle continued. The world grew briefly dark as he ran through the trees and shrubs. This stretch of trees was thin and light compared to what they had experienced at the city. Through the trees he could see the same engagement continuing. Nestled amongst the trees was Kutja holding the hand-cannon like a rifle and waiting. He fired, emitting another explosive band and a blast of smoke.

Artie ran past him, his lung beginning to scorch inside of him, and back into the day-light. It was another field, but with taller grass here, patched with small mud-pools and puddles, and the occasional lone tree that stood taller than the clustered ones in the jungle. There were a few bodies lying on the floor, either unconscious or dead. His sweaty hands gripped the sword as if it was his entire world. There were still more pirates then members of The Hunnigan's Glory. The Mountain Eve with the halberd was engaging Ban with another Dromea pirate, the first-mate spinning their two inky blades around quickly, but losing ground. Artie yelled as he leapt his sword swinging towards the Eve. Their ears twitched and they spun to meet him, the dulled cutlass sinking slightly into the wooden staff near his hands. Artie pulled back, but the sword was stuck. The Eve pulled too, and they were stuck in a stalemate. The eve released his grip slightly, before pulling sharply towards himself again, and Artie was pulled into the Eve's forehead. It truck him on the nose, sending a dark splodge into his retinas that stung and sang.

He bit his tongue as he fell backwards, the light turning into a collage of light and black as the ground came to meet him. His ears rang and the world became a blur as the Eve snatched the sword out of the halberd, and aimed it towards Artie. From behind him, he did not see his Saurian ally fall, sliced horizontally by Ban's executioner blade. Before the spear point could fall, both blades struck him in the back. He yelled as he fell, Artie rolling to his side to not be collided. Ban appeared in front of him, their hand reaching out.

“You alright?” They asked quickly.

Artie could only nod as he was pulled upright again, the world starting to make sense once more.

“The captain here yet?” Ban asked picking up Artifae's scavenged sword.

He shook his head as he took the cutlass, and Ban cursed. Before they could say anything, an arrow whistled between them. From afar, the Moon-Orkan had taken up position by another edge of the tree-line, standing on a rocky outcrop above the fields. They notched another arrow, as Artie watched on, waiting with despair. Ban did not hesitate, reaching towards their bloody vest and lifting it up. There was a tattoo of a vicious red and black wolf, eyes like blood. Artifae watched as the wolf emerged from Ban's skin, bounding out of his body and into the real world. It moved with the same uncanny movement the bird and blade did, as if they should not exist within their world. It cast no shadow and moved with a terrifying velocity towards the Moon-Orkan, who loosed his arrow beyond it. It fell before it hit Artifae or Ban, and the wolf was upon him. He yelled as the inky creature pounced on him, its hardened liquid claws and fangs drawing blood as he screamed. Ban went to close the distance as the Moon-Orkan withdrew his dagger again, stabbing away until the creature eventually gave way, dissolving into liquid that instantly drew itself to Ban , gliding along the air until it reached Ban's side again, the tattoo restored.

There was another thunderous bang, but it was soon eclipsed by the sound of another trumpeting call. The fighting died down, and all eyes were turned to a great grey mass exiting the jungle from behind the Moon-Orkan. It was another of the tusked giants, not as tall as the ones within the herd, but heftier. It stood at eleven foot-tall, a hulking great bull. Its trunk was short and swung slowly around its face, its curved tusks were chipped and a pale yellow, flecked with mud. Its short tail flickered wildly behind it, and its front trunk-like leg stomped loudly. It trumpeted again, a curious challenge, before stomping again.

Oh Hel, it's getting angry.

The creature knocked its head back, opened its mouth and called loudly. It stomped repeatedly, growing agitated.

“Nobody move!” Ban shouted, turning as still as possible.

Artie froze too, realising the beast was less than the length of The Hunnigan's Glory away from him. The Moon-Orkan was much, much closer. He began to tremble, slowly reaching for another arrow, when the beast roared again. The brigand yelped, and moved to run back into the trees, but the motion startled the beast. It roared angrily, thundering towards him. It's large legs moving like pistons, frighteningly fast. It bellowed again as it reached the sprinting Orkan, and barged him with its large head. Artie could hear the wind leaving his lungs as he flew through the air, landign and rolling, and continuing to as the great feet trampled him.

Even Ban flinched at the sight.

“Hell's Daemons...” Artie heard from behind.

Kutja had run out to meet them, the smell of gun-smoke overshadowing his body-odour. He grew even paler, watching the creature who turned to face them. It bellowed again, stomping and grunting. Artie waited for something, a sign or signal, but none came, as the beast charged towards them. People from all sides yelled and sprinted in different directions, with the majority of Ban's team retreating towards the tree-line. Artifae was frozen in place as Ban ran past, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Move!” They shouted, and Artie followed.

The earth shuddered beneath them as the thunderous challenge grew louder. He could see figures leaping down the hill to join them. Among them was Misha, leaping gracefully, her clothes slightly torn and her hands bloody, but otherwise unscathed. He felt reassured watching her, until he saw the stone collide with the back of her head. She grunted as her feet felt underneath her, rolling and tumbling into the long grass.

No!

Immediately Artie paused, the hammering of the earth and within his ribcage melding together. He drew in a breath as Ban turned to look at him, panic in their eyes. He darted to the side, running to her as she dissappeared into the unyielding grass. Kutja was not far in front of him, huffing greatly as his stubby legs were willed into movement, but still processing enough speed.

Artifae reached Misha, who had steadied herself upwards, and helped pull her up, throwing one of her arms around his neck as she groaned groggily.

“Kutja!” He yelled.

The beast was almost upon them, heading straight for them. Artifae was stuck, watching as the Dvergr turned, fear evident in his eyes. He trained the gun on the large beast, his large hands trembling. He gritted his teeth...and turned, continuing to flee. Artie watched his last hope flee from them, and awaited the inevitable. The smell of dung and mud reached them as the beast zoned in, its trumpeting call was deafening. He braced himself, as a dark thin shape raced to their aid. The ink-black wolf savaged the leg of the creature, who spun its head around as artificial fangs sunk itself into the hide. Artifae looked to Ban, who nodded, but continued to flee.

No way we're gonna make it to the tree-line. Gotta think of something...

He scanned the area. The last of the pirates had escaped, throwing out jeers and insults that evaporated along the wind. More few stones, but no more came close to their mark. The only thing nearby was a long tree, drooping on one side to where the sun rose.

That's our only chance.

“C'mon Misha, we gotta go.” He urged, and she gargled a response, but her feet moved at least.

The two hobbled towards the tree, but will still over thirty feet away by the time the monster dispelled the attacking wolf. Artifae let go of Misha's arm, urging her to sprint, and she did so, but without the grace she had before. She ran clumsily, but could keep up with Artifae at least. Once more, the earth hammered below them as the creature gave chase. Artie's body began to scream as the reached the canopy of drooping leaves, and he ran to the trunk, cupping his hands. He yelled for Misha, and diligently, she sprung one boot into his hands, and he bounded her up. She clambered upwards clumsily, as the grey veiled juggernaut closed ground on them.

“Misha!” He cried. “Misha!”

She scrambled upwards and rotated herself, dropping a hand down. He jumped, one foot bouncing off of the grey bark, and clasped her hand. He heard her groan as she pulled them up, and the great hulking beast made contact with the tree. It butted its head against the bark just as Artifae swung his legs upwards.

“Up! Up! Climb!” He yelled.

The two scrambled upwards as the monster shrieked, backing upwards and butting the tree again. As they climbed the branches they felt them shudder, the entire tree quaking beneath them. The monster roared, stepping backwards slowly, its dark beady eyes following them as they escape. With a great upheaval, it lifted itself onto its hind-legs, and pressed them against the tree. They still climbed to the very top, hanging onto the last spindly branches as the tree began to uproot. Artifae clenched his eyes shut as he felt the earth and sky switch between each-other.

There was someone shouting. The beast roared, and suddenly the tree stopped moving, the great weight being lifted off. Through the leaves, he saw the tusked menace back away, trumpeting at a new challenger. A stick-like object was sticking out of its shoulder.

“Hit it again!” Someone shouted.

Artifae continued to hold on for dear life, seeing the ground was much closer than it was a minute ago, when he saw a flash of orange and silver. Like a roaring tiger, Captain Albahr leapt in front of the monster, his gleaming sickle blade swerving from left to right. He took a step forward, yelling as he did so, and again, and again, waving the creature off. Reluctantly, it began to back off, trumpeting and stamping in a final stand-off, but the new members of the fray held their ground fiercely. It trumpeted one final time, an acknowledgment of defeat, before it went sulking backwards.

“Oh, thank X.” Artie whimpered into the bark.

“Li? Sajaestan?” The captain called.

“Up here.” He called back down, wearily.

Clambering slowly back, Artifae and Misha were assisted back into the gass, landing hard on the ground, but glad for the solid floor to be in their acquaintance once more. There was another large trumpeting call, as the monster retreated back to where he appeared, but he turned to look at them again, his tail whipping angrily.

“Hurry, we must be quick, before the brute decides to attack again.” Captain Albahr said, giving a quick look to it as he helped Artifae steady himself.

“Thank you...captain.” Artifae said, suddenly very dizzy.

Dhib Albahr said nothing, but smiled, clasping Artifae's shoulder tightly. Artifae studied the tree, it had not been fully uprooted, but half of its hidden network had emerged, and the trunk was almost at a right angle.

“Back to the ship. Quickly now!” The captain ordered.

Captain Albahr's rescue party reunited with Ban's sortie, and the crew of The Hunnigan's Glory reunited warmly.

“Thanks for comin', captain.” Ban wheezed. “Been a helluva afternoon.”

The captain smiled and patted his first-mate on the back, until he noticed the wound by his side.

“We'll fix you up first, then you can tell me about it.”

“What about the treasure?” The bruised mud-goblin complained.

“Looks like they don't know where it is either.” Ban mused.

“I'm sure it wasn't in the skull-room.” The High-Eve said, nursing a scratch on his forehead.

“Skull-room? What in X's name is a skull-room?” The Sea-Eve lookout asked.

The group marched back through the jungle, and towards the first field. Artifae studied the full squadron of men. Most of the crew was here, but a few were missing.

“Where's Taisha?” Artifae asked a still groggy Misha, but it was the captain who answered.

“Back at the ship. I've asked her to keep an eye on our captive.”

Right. Escaping certain death only to get back on a boat with more of the same.

“Did you...did you speak to him, captain?” Artifae asked cautiously as they marched through the field, towards the hill where the commotion began.

“I did.” The captain nodded, solemnly. “Truly, ark soul if I ever met one. I asked him questions like a man, but all I saw witin him was...hatred, and metal. There's nothing else to him.”

Artifae gulped.

“Did you ask him if he killed Master Se?”

Captain Albahr shook his head.

“'Twas not my place. He is guilty of a great many things, that is to be said, and the sooner he is off of my ship, the happier I will be.”

Yeah, you and me both.

They reached the jungle once more, the sounds of the river greeting like an old friend. It was quieter than before, only echoes of birdsong to be heard as the afternoon sun deepened. They were still a ways from the coast, when the Sea-Eve's nose and ears twitched.

“What is it?” Ban asked.

“It's...no...!” He began, before bolting forwards.

Silently, the rest of the crew looked amongst themselves, before bounding towards him. The smell hit them first, before they reached the beach. The tide had come in, but amongst the sea-water, past the now floating three skiffs, was The Hunnigan's Glory.

It was burning.