Traveler

When the pirates had been taken back to the barracks, Ahtbyrm approached her. She acknowledged him with a small nod. “My thanks Azlyn. I shudder to think what may have become of the Victory  without your intervention.”

She looked to the massive ship behind them. “You’ll be busy cleaning up though.” 

He sighed. Scratching the back of his head, he looked at the trashed docks and torn materials. “The pirates have made a right mess of things alright—I’d best get to sorting it out.” Ahtbyrm frowned. 

Azlyn looked in the direction where his father and the rest of the pirates had been taken. “Maybe things will get better between you two.” She offered her insight, mostly from their recent exchange. 

He sighed once more. “I need to sort out my thoughts too. Ever did my father have a way of turning my life upside down. I hope Grimthota knows I convey my gratitude, and apologies.” Offering Azlyn his hand, he gave her a wry grin. She returned his sturdy handshake and they bid farewell. 

She needed to find Grimthota and make sure they were doing okay given the surge of activity. There may even be lurking pirates not found yet that might need capturing still. She walked up the dock, to the upward staircase that led her straight to the Storm Captain herself. Grimthota was standing at attention, waiting for her to approach. 

Grimthota grinned. “How fare you Azlyn? I cannot begin to thank you for the role you played in preventing this madness.” 

Azlyn smiled, she could see K’ryleah, C’nangho, and Urswyrst running up to greet her with their Captain. “I’m glad the ship and the port is doing alright. It’s in the good care of The Maelstrom after all.” She complimented their group, and offered them a resolute salute she hoped to perfect one day. Urswyrst laughed at her, while K’ryleah and C’nangho gave her a thumbs up at her attempt. 

“You defended more than a simple ship—you saved the budding hope of Limsa Lominsa from a violent demise.” 

K’ryleah jumped up with excitement. “And I can see why you’re the Bloody Princess of the Sea! How you triumphantly took charge in battle, your quick thinking!”

C’nangho nodded. He bumped Urswyrst with his arm. “We were impressed by the way you handled yourself. Glad you’re on our side.” 

Azlyn waved them off with embarrassment. “It was thanks to you all that it all worked out. It was a team effort.” She bowed to them to express her thanks. 

The Storm Captain nodded, but then looked to her team. She sighed. “Regardless of our close victory, it seems our security regimen will require much in the way of improvement if we are to truly keep the Drydocks safe. Be prepared, we’re increasing our training by tenfold tomorrow.” 

The three guards got pumped up, and Azlyn smiled. She was glad to see they were enthusiastic about their duties there at the Drydocks. “With you all here, I have no doubt these docks will be safe. Oh!” She remembered what Ahtbyrm had told her. “Ahtbyrm is forever grateful to you all—and sorry for what happened. He didn’t expect his own family to come and try a stunt like this. He wanted me to express this since he’s a bit busy.” 

Grimthota crossed her arms. “Ahtbyrm apologizes? Well, I suppose I can understand why he would feel responsible for his father’s actions. Of all those involved, this incident was hardest on him.” 

K’ryleah snapped to attention, “But Captain, all he has to do is do his duty—no one will judge him for this.” 

She nodded. “I too believe he will come to a single conclusion: the most fitting way of moving past his anguish is to see the Victory completed and in the water.” 

Her squadron approved of this statement, as they expressed with knowing nods. “Yes—and we’ll be here to make sure he’s on schedule.”

C’nangho grinned. “And we’ll be keeping the docks safe.” 

Azlyn smiled. “And what of the pirates? Where do they go from this point?”

K’ryleah rose her index finger to explain. “We handed them over to the Yellowjackets. Commodore Reyner’s men will be taking over the investigation. He wanted me to convey this to you Captain.” She then gestured for Urswryst to pull out what the Yellowjackets had given him. “Urswryst, give the Captain the note!”

He pulled out the folded up paper. Grimthota accepted the piece, opening it to read. She had the most perplexed of faces before folding it up. “This is quite unusual. Azlyn, I would ask of you another favor.” She handed the piece of paper to her. “This missive was penned in the most unusual script—similar to a code I think.”

K’ryleah tapped her cheek in thought. “The Yellowjackets didn’t want to do this part of the investigation?”

The Captain sighed. “Who knows—but I’m afraid we’re a bit out of our depth with a code like this. If it’s something that might help Limsa Lominsa, we should do what we can to decipher it and uncover it’s true intentions.”

Azlyn asked for the missive, “May I see it?” 

The penned note was quite the letter. She couldn’t decipher it just by reading it. She picked up different key words here and there. “Hrm...can you think of anyone who might be able to read this? I might be able to—but I’d need sometime. Which I don’t think we have.” She looked at the one word that stood out. “Something’s happening soon. That’s all I can gather from this.” 

Everyone of them gawked at her analysis, before she had to explain. “I learned several languages in Sharlayan. Lots of languages derive from one mother language—anyways—“

Impressed, Grimthota nodded. “I know the Yellowjackets turn to Baderon and his convenient—connections. He’s probably our quickest bets—so into his hand and no other. Do you understand?” 

Azlyn folded the missive and placed it safely into her pocket. “I’ll go right now.”

She was about to teleport, until K’ryleah grabbed her by her arm. She stopped to look at her new friend. “What’s up?” 

The Miqo’te smiled. “Thank you for everything—I had fun hanging out with you last night. Come again. You’re always welcome.” 

The squadron bowed to her, and Grimthota nodded. Azlyn gave a warm smile. “Thank you. I’ll see you soon. Since you all allowed me access to the Aetheryte in town.” She winked, and then began her teleport spell back to Limsa Lominsa. She could see K’ryleah waving as she winked out from existence and back in the central plaza of Limsa Lominsa. It was still nighttime—as the evening turned late. She hoped Baderon would be in the Drowned Wench despite it being late. 

She teleported to the Aftcastle, sprinting from the Upper deck of Limsa Lominsa to the bar. She could see the lights were ablaze and people were still drinking tankards this late. Azlyn saw Baderon talking with a group of individuals by the bar, before she ran up. She didn’t waste her breathe as she pulled out the letter. 

He waved at her, and the group that was being attended by him bid their farewells. Baderon chuckled as he took the paper from her hands. “Ahoy there, look at you dressed to the nines in shiny new duds. And a shiny tiara. You’re taking on the Princess title well—“ He laughed. 

She waved him off. “Yes—yes—“ Before she could say anything about the letter, he interrupted her with tales of her expeditions in the Drydocks. He waved the letter a few times for good measure. 

“I’ve been ‘earin’ about your deeds at the Drydocks. Helpin’ out everyone in savin’ the Victory. Ahtbyrm must have been reelin’ at ‘is old man’s part in the busine—“ He stopped talking as soon he finally opened the letter given to him. He stopped talking as he scanned it’s content. His face darkened. “Aye...” 

Azlyn tensed. Her bad feeling about the paper seemed on point. “Something soon—but I couldn’t figure it out.” She explained, she was trying to catch her breath. 

“Take a seat—heh.” He shook his head. “You’re like one o’ me regulars now, Azlyn. Ye never let me down yet, an’ Navigator ‘elp me, I reckon I can trust ye.” 

She sat down at the bar, and waited for him to tell her what was going on. Whether he meant to or not, her anxiety spiked when he went to clear his entire bar. Told them to start flooding the tables or he’d close down early. 

When he felt comfortable, he came back to where she was sitting and leaned in close. “Don’t need no prying ears to hear. Well back when I was younger an’ nastier. I earned me livin’ as a sellsword. In that business, if ye wanted to know what yer enemy was up to, you ‘ad to learn to read the orders ye prised from the cold dead ‘ands of ‘is mates.”

Azlyn frowned. “That’s how you can read the message then. What is it?”

He sighed. “Them’s Sahagin letters, lass. An’ I should know—I’ve gutted more fishback messengers than I can count.”

That would also explain how she knew some of the words. She wasn’t wrong when tribal languages derived from other languages. She had studied it briefly in her time with the Students of Baldesion. She remembered when she was younger when reports of Leviathan had been summoned and —the results weren’t good.

“And it gets worse. The plan to blow up the Victory is all in ‘ere, right down to the fine details. Looks like they meant to raise eight kinds of ‘ell in western La Noscea, then ‘it the Maelstrom’s new flagship in the confusion. This attack weren’t the act of a few rebellious pirates—‘twas a key part o’ some canny bastard’s grand plan.”

Azlyn frowned. She remembered how rushed the whole ordeal was—and how poorly executed the attack at the Drydocks went. “It seems like they rushed the plan—that might have been because I was getting into their business.” She surmised, remembering the morning where she walked right into their campsite. 

She had a feeling that may have left them a bit on edge. 

Baderon nodded. “Yer correct. The attack itself came much to early.” He looked down, placing his hand to his bearded chin in thought. He was murmuring his thoughts. “Hrmmm—those tattoo-faced bastards from Summerford was payin’ Ahtbyrm’s old man.”

“But the Serpent Reavers weren’t there. It was just Ahtzapfyn’s crew and some beastmen.”

He narrowed his eyes at that. “Did they ‘ave summat better to do, or what?” He went to pace up and down his bar, deep in thought—and then turned to the letter in front of Azlyn. He left it there for her to see. 

He snapped his fingers as if something just occurred to him. “Seven ‘ells! I’ve got it all backwards! That mess at the Victory — that  was meant to be the bloody distraction! Them fishbacks ain’t interested in the Maelstom’s baby! They’re after men! Just as they always have been—and they’re sendin’ their lackey’s after a civilian target.”

Azlyn straightened. “Who are they trying to grab?” 

Baderon shook his head again, “Wrong question lass, it’s not who, but where. They’re lookin’ to raise ‘ell in Western La Noscea, and summat tells me Swiftperch is about to get ‘it, an’ ‘it ‘ard!” He raised his finger and began to explain why he came up with this notion.

By the time he was finished, Azlyn was agreeing with his notion. It was a barren, hardly protected farmland with civilians trying to bring the lands back to it’s former glory. Of course it would be a good spot to kidnap plenty of people without raising to much suspicion—until this letter. 

“Got some paper in that satchel o’ your’s?” 

Azlyn nodded, pulling out one of her many journals to hand him a sheet. He started to ink down some instructions before he handed it back to her. He nodded. “‘Ere’s a rough translation o’ the message. Take it to Commodore Reyner at the Coral Tower, an’ tell ‘im’e’s in fer a busy day.”

She took the letter, seeing the extra note he added to the bottom. “Volunteering me before I even ask?” 

He smirked. “Can’t have our Bloody Princess sit on the sidelines. Ye can be damn sure ‘e’s gonna need a ‘and or two.”

Azlyn copied his smirk, before she pocketed the missive and began to run out from the bar. 

Baderon waved goodbye, and wished her the guidance of the Navigator as she went. 

She rushed down the white stone path on the upper deck, ignoring several stares to her as she saw the Coral Tower getting closer and closer. She could see even late at night the Marauder’s Guild was still busy training and keeping up in their regime. 

Axemaster Wyrnzoen nodded to her when she ran in, and she spotted the black-clad uniformed man at the top of the upper landing. She took the stairs two at a time, before she produced the letter from Baderon. “Commodore Reyner? My name is Azlyn—I have a message from Baderon regarding the recent events that happened in Moraby Drydocks early this morning.” 

He took the letter from her, and read the missive to himself. His usual jovial countenance had shifted just as Baderon’s did when he read the coded message she delivered unto him. Commodore Reyner looked to her. “Azlyn, the Bloody Princess of the Sea—your name has past by many lips these recent weeks due to your courageous deeds and generosity. And I have the feeling my quiet evening is about to be cruelly dashed.” He sighed, folding the letter from Baderon. 

The Au Ra began to explain everything from the Serpent Reavers involvement in Summerford Farms, to the incidences in Moraby Drydocks, the letter deciphered. “—Swiftperch will likely get targeted tonight since the pirates at Moraby Drydocks rushed their plan. It would only make sense that they too would take the opportunity since everyone is dealing with the aftermath of the Victory’s attack.”

He raised his voice in shock. “But we have nothing to suggest the Serpent Reavers are massing for an attack.”

Azlyn explained. “It’s a community that would be the least likely protected—and easy to strike when there’s hardly any guards. That’s what Baderon said.” 

The Commodore frowned, looking down at the upper landings floor. “Even so, it would be foolish to discount the possibility. Baderon’s rarely wrong about such matters. So be it.” He crossed his arms, “I will marshall the Yellowjackets to battle immediately.” 

As if fate spurned the wheels to churn, a Yellowjacket officer came running into the Coral Tower. He was sweating as he ran over to them. “Commodore!”

Commodore Reyner stood at attention. “Report.” 

The officer saluted, “It’s the Sahagin, sir! They’re mounting a large scale-assault on South Tidegate, and threaten to overwhelm our defenses within the night. The garrison is requesting reinforcements.”

The Au Ra turned back to the Commodore as he frowned heavily. 

He gripped both of his hands into tightened fists. “By the Navigator—It seems my decision has been made for me.” He commanded the officer in front of him. “Muster the troops and give them the order to march!”

She could see he was in a tight spot. “I’ll go to Swiftperch—if the Serpent Reavers attack there, I’ll handle it.” 

The Commodore accepted her terms. “Aye—it seems this assault on Tidegate may yet prove to be another feint. The fact remains, that we can ill afford to ignore it. It is at times such as these  that I wish the Warriors of Light yet walked among us. But wishes will avail us.” Before he could say anything further, a familiar booming voice from the lower deck gathered his attention. The Axemaster was grinning as he scratched under his nose. 

“Can’t have one of our own take an assault all on her own—and I reckon you’re in a tight spot Commodore—the Marauder’s Guild is at your disposal.”

The men around him roared in agreement, which gave the Commodore a sigh of relief. “You all will have to serve in our absence Axemaster Wyrnzoen. Azlyn,” He turned to her. “Make haste for Swiftperch, and lend strength to the people. I leave the settlement’s defenses to you and the guild.” 

Azlyn nodded, smiling before running down to her guild’s side. The guild master had already gotten his guild ready for battle and preparing for them to teleport over. “Get going lass, we’ll be over shortly.”

She activated her spell to teleport, thinking on the crystal in Swiftperch. It wasn’t long before the warmth of the Coral Tower was replaced with a cool night’s breeze of the settlement. There were several small squadrons of Yellowjackets stationed there, but Azlyn found them gathering around her. 

“Heard from the Commodore that we should be expectin’ you lass.” The Yellowjacket known as Ryssfloh smiled down to her. “The Marauder’s Guild too? What’s going to happen tonight? Man—this reminds me of the time you were a wide-eyed whelp fresh off the ferry—now look at you.” 

Azlyn smiled despite the situation. “Pirates can change a person’s outlook a bit, but I hope we’re ahead of them this time.” 

He nodded. “Understood, we’re at your command. We’ll cover your back.” He ordered the squads to increase their patrols and await for further instructions. Before long the marauder’s guild had doubled their number in size. 

They were separated into smaller groups, to address unwatched areas of Swiftperch. 

Azlyn found herself standing in the middle of town, as Ryssfloh approached her. The campfire she started had burned brightly as the night went on. 

“Do you know what you’re fighting for here?”

She looked at the newly built houses, and its dried farmlands. “Hope.”

Ryssfloh grinned, “Aye—Swiftperch is exactly that. It was the hope of those who rebuilt it—it was by these same folks who stood in the face of every hardship the Calamity threw their way. And we’re not about to let some fish-fancying scum claim the honor of being the ones who broke that kindling hope.”

“Let’s protect this place together.” She replied, looking to the entrance. 

He followed her gaze. “Don’t give those pirate bastards one bloody ilm, you hear me?”

She slowly pulled out her axe, as she nodded. “Understood.”

“Here they come!” One of the Yellowjacket girl’s hollered. 

They strode in confidently, the blue tattooed men that Azlyn had seen once before in Lower La Noscea. That time they summoned a golem—she wondered what atrocities they planned for Swiftperch. 

“‘Ere now, I thought all them Yellowjacket worms was meant to be busy—yet I see quite a few axemen as well.” The leader of the Serpent Reavers sighed. “That useless scrag ain’t followed the plan, ‘as ‘e?” 

One of the Serpent Reaver’s deckhand’s replied next to him. “Now what? Pull back and wait for our Sahagin brother’s?”

The leader smirked, spitting on the hard gravel. “Piss on that! Baenryss doesn’t turn back empty-handed.” He turned to his men. “Remember, no killin’ the small folk, or it’ll be your blood what stains Lord Leviathan’s altars!” The one who called himself Baenryss looked back to the center of town, where Azlyn stood with her axe. He brandished his own weapon with an evil smile. “The Yellowbellies ye can butcher at will. Them dirt-eatin’ slugs’ll be crushed under the full might o’ the Serpent Reavers!” 

The men behind him gave a roar, but Baenryss didn’t stop. “And the girl, she’s mine.” 

Ryssfloh stepped up next to her, glaring at the boss of the Serpent Reavers. “Fat chance. Seems Swiftperch was the main target after all.” He shouted out for all units to hear. His voice echoed in the loud open space. “Squads One and Two, protect the townsfolk! Squad Three, you’re our rear guard! Marauder’s, we meet their charge where we stand! Let us bear The Commodore’s word of our victory, or not words at all!”

The town echoed back with the callback of “Victory, or no word at all!”

Azlyn yelled the same chant before cracking her knuckles holding tightly onto the axe’s grip. 

Baenryss started his sprint into town, his eyes widened at the thrill of battle. “I’ll gut all you Yellowbellies an’ dance on yer gizzards!”