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                                      Upon his departure from the kitchen, Alaric found his chest right where he left it on the deck, and flung his large body upon it gratefully. But as he lay there, embracing the silver-- as if it were a long lost cousin-- his eyelids grew heavy with sleep. His crew stared at him suspiciously, but no one dared to ask him what he was doing-- or what he had done with the girl. Most suspected that with a temper like his, he had killed her. In turn, the men's hopes that their captain would not be blinded by the promise of play were renewed. And they began working diligently around him to get the ship to full speed as he slept in the rather awkward position.

                                      Fortunately, he was not bothered until the moon was at it's highest point in the sky. It was midnight, and they were nearing the forbidden territory. The werewolves did well to protect themselves on the island that the Nattic Forest occupied, and were not without allies. Luckily, the blood on the ship had done an impeccable job of protecting them from impeding doom. Therefore, there was no need for them to worry about what creatures lay beneath the dark water. But danger or no, it seemed Alaric was always needed for one reason or another. Although he had to admit, this particular talk was the most peculiar of them all.

                                      His body was shaken until he roused-- coins from the open chest imprinted onto his face due to the length of time he spent up against them. He was groggy to say the least, and grumpiness wasn't above him. Alaric immediately waved his hand at whomever it was that had disrupted his slumber, attempting to shove them away from him before he recognized the voice of Stout. The already short, chubby man knelt down beside him, in the hopes of quelling what was sure to become rage with a kind smile. The captain groaned loudly, still not quite happy, but sat his head up to address his first mate accordingly, even if whatever he had to say could wait until morning.

                                      Coins trickled from his face back into the chest as he slouched beside it and ran his fingers through strands of his unruly blond hair. "What is it?" He whispered, glancing up at the night sky. It was a beautiful evening, and the wind rustled gently over the deck like a wave over the sand.

                                      "I thought we could speak about what happened earlier." Alaric's eyes, which weren't quite open yet, narrowed even farther at the request. Stout looked nervous, and continued quickly. "Not in regards to the man you killed, but what happened during..."

                                      The captain still didn't understand. He didn't recall anything occurring other than the death of he who was deserving. However, the man had a look on his face that said otherwise; it was a mixture of concern and outright worry. "Did one of the crew speak ill of me? Is it mutiny?"

                                      "No, no! It's not that all." Stout dropped to his knees shaking his head at him profusely, then sat back on his heels. "Yer eyes...and the storm..."

                                      Alaric frowned. "My eyes? What storm?"

                                      "You speak of yer mother a great deal, she was half elf and half witch, but she was born human."

                                      He nodded, agreeing with what had been said. "Yes."

                                      "You have never once mentioned yer father, however."

                                      There was a pain that struck his heart like a knife at the very thought of the man who had slept with his mother and run off-- leaving her to wrath of Olivera, and to raise a baby all on her own. Alaric swallowed, and got to his feet. "I don't have a father."

                                      Stout looked surprised as he quickly followed the same movements. "Did he die before you born?"

                                      "He was gone before I was born, that much I know!" He growled, reached down to practically pick the man up by his collar. There was fire in his eyes, a passion that could not be described in words. The fear it evoked in Stout was prominent as he looked up with wide eyes-- afraid to speak.

                                      "Captain, please..."

                                      "Who are you to ask such questions to the very man who allows you to keep your pathetic life!" He yanked up on his collar bending forward, leaving hardly any space between their faces.

                                      "Captain...listen to me--"

                                      "No! You listen to me! Such is none of your business. And if you inquire about my father ever again, I'll kill you. First mate, or no."

                                      "Alaric!"

                                      "What!?" He cried out of frustration. It seemed the man did not plan to stop his integration, even upon the threat of losing his life. In addition, he called him something that was taboo among the crew.

                                      "Yer eyes went black! You brought thunder, and storm clouds with yer rage!"

                                      Alaric was listening now. "Black?"

                                      "Darker than the night sky..."

                                      He released the man abruptly with a shove to put some space between them. Stout stumbled backward, his breaths shallow, except his chest heaved in and out. "Bringing thunder the way you did...that is a sign..."

                                      Suddenly, there was an interruption; the crew called out to him with great disdain in their voices. All there heads were turned toward the starboard side of the ship, as if they had seen something horrific. Alaric feared that their luck was about the change. He worried these water would not be as merciful as the others, and that the blood that had been serving as protection against the unknown, was not potent enough to fend of creatures of this caliber. Therefore, he didn't bother to wrap up his conversation with Stout, and rushed across the deck with purposeful steps only to find it was not at all like he thought.

                                      By now the ship was moving at full speed, and off a good distance from it was a small boat with Estelle upon it. Alaric heaved a great sigh and slammed his hands into the rail, yet was unable to stay angry. The corners of his mouth twinged, and he realized that he was once again impressed. He let out a laugh, albeit most of his men were outraged by her escape. "She should have let you slit her throat!" Jolly called from the crow's nest. He was an exception to the other's, for he reflected the captain's amusement with a smile. "Now she will be left to deal with the wrath of the gods!"

                                      The men cheered loudly, but something caught the captain's eye as it passed under the ship. It was a great shadow, darker than the sea that harbored it. Alaric was alarmed. He didn't know why, but there was fear in him for this woman-- this woman he didn't even know. She was an ingredient yes, however this moved beyond her usefulness.

                                      "What is it?" Stout was at his now, his eyes shifting nervously upward as he saw his captain's smirk vanish without a trace. "Sir..." But he had already made up his mind. Alaric stepped up onto the rail, loosing his gun from his waist and clapped his hands overhead, diving face first into the sea below. His first mate cried out for him, desperately screaming for the men to get a rope, yet as he burst from the surface he started swimming away from the ship. "Captain, she isn't worth it! We can find another fairy!"

                                      Not like this one. She was different. And should he allow her to die, the gods would punish him. He felt it in his bones.

                                      His arms pulled back on water, pushing it behind him to put more distance between himself and the Sea Dragon. Alaric was nearing the boat, but he wasn't fast enough. And it was worse than he feared. The shadow revealed itself to be some sort of leviathan-- it's scales glistening beneath the moonlight and it's eyes glowing strangely iridescent. In all his travels, he had never seen anything quite like it. But was not afraid.

                                      Alaric removed his dagger as he paddled around it's large snake like body, but was startled by the sound that escaped it's mouth, which was decorated with sharp pointed teeth. And then, without so much as a chance to prepare, it slammed down on the boat causing a tidal wave to engulf Alaric and send him sinking down into the depths of the ocean. He flailed his legs in a panic from the unexpected assault, trying to get back to the surface as water threatened to enter his lungs and force him to drown.

                                      The captain opened his eyes, hoping the moon provided enough light to see the rest of his enemy, and it did. What he saw overwhelmed him; the body of the beast seemed to go on forever, coiling down into the murkiest parts of the ocean. Alaric's eyes darted around, looking for Estelle among the pieces of shredded boat that floated down past the leviathan, but there wasn't enough time before he broke through the top of the water, gasping for air. His hair matted to his face as he heard the cry of the crew, who were now preparing to fire the cannons in order to rescue him. But he couldn't focus. He needed to move, but the woman was no where to be seen.

                                      "ESTELLE!" He shouted, his hands clapping the water as he waded there hoping for a response. Alaric had never felt such hysteria in his life, and his heart was stampeding against his rib cage in a frantic attempt to get loose. "ESTELLE!" He whirled around in place, only to find that the creature had positioned itself between he and the Sea Dragon.

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                                                                              ♦Estelle was lost. Swallowed in a sea of blackened shadow as the currents carried her further down and it was only by sheer luck that the length of the beast had been long enough to reach her as it shot beneath the woman and off to her left, propelling her body back towards the surface as the end of its tail struck her and vanished with the rest of it. Still, it wasn’t enough. Estelle was a fairy and like many she had never thought it any use to learn how to swim. Flying and walking had provided all the transportation she needed and due to the dangers involved in getting one’s wings wet, very few bothered teaching their young how to as once they sprouted there would be no need of the pastime. But of course, she was a rare case. It was only until now that she regretted having dared to leave the ship at all in such unfamiliar seas. Estelle’s hands clawed at the water as her lungs began to ache. The lack of oxygen was causing her to go light headed and the strain on her body to fight for what little hope remained was exhausting. However, the flurry of bubbles produced by the disturbance in the water had settled and she could see bits of wreckage floating above. In a desperate attempt to spare herself she kicked her legs as she’d seen those without fairy origins do in the springs of Moriel, but it proved just as difficult to grasp the concept. And then she felt it. The splintered edge of the rowboats paneling as her hand broke the surface and grabbed hold of it. Estelle threw her drenched body over the cluster of planks as they provided her with a means of floating if only barely and rest her head upon them as she wretched what water had found its way into her stomach and lungs. The sea was growing more treacherous by the moment and the sound of waves crashing into one another resonated across the night sky. But then she heard it. It was barely audible at first but as he called out a second time the man’s voice proved just as mighty as the heavens themselves. She did not care how he’d managed to do it nor why. But he had. Captain Axton was in the water. And he was close. ”Captain?” She called out, searching the horizon until she spotted him but ten feet away. His blonde hair sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the blackened sea. ”CAPTAIN!” Estelle shot her arms out and abandoned the safety of the raft in an attempt to reach out to him. But as soon as she released it she could feel the weight of her body pulling down on her. The water engulfed her for a second time before she was able to clamber back on to the planks once more, finding it safer to wade through the current whilst remaining dependant on the wreckage for support.

                                                                              Unfortunately they were not without audience. The serpent like creature had resurfaced and wedged itself between them and the ship, refusing them passage to safety and leaving them without protection. Still Estelle tried to focus on reaching Axton. Slowly inching her way across the clearing until she was within arms reach but just as she moved to grab hold of him the creature came to life once more. Its body rose to the skies above and curved over them in a rapid nose dive into the water. The jaws of the beast extending as it took aim. Estelle knew not if they would survive a second attack nor if making an effort would at all come to fruition. But what she did know was that she no longer wished to cast this man out of her sight. He could have easily avoided this problem. There were plenty of fairies in the world and if he put his mind to it Estelle was without a doubt that he could coax one into aiding him. The captain was not without charm. And she’d been a fool to underestimate him. Yet here he was…. The man had put himself in danger for someone as useless as herself. She was without purpose. And still he seemed determined to give her one. ”Axton-“ Her hand wrapped around his arm but just as her mouth began to form the beginnings of an apology she felt the full force of the sea monster come crashing down upon them. Her hand lost its grip on both the captain and the wreckage as she was forced back into the water only to resurface moments later flailing about. With each few seconds she was able to savor in breaking from the water she was able to inhale her keep before being forced below once more. It was there as she struggled within the sea’s grasp that she heard a cascade of mind quaking sounds erupt from above. Several yards away, the ship could be seen turning back towards them with its canons drawn and firing at the monstrosity plaguing the depths below. But whether such was a plausible attempt was beyond her as Estelle continued to struggle against the current and maintain afloat. All the while searching for the man she’d been parted from.


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                                      Alaric's mind was moving a mile a minute, trying to decide if his men were stupid enough to fire the cannons whilst their captain was in the line of fire. He knew many wouldn't mind if the sea swallowed him up right here and now. After all, he had shown no remorse in killing members of the crew that didn't follow his orders, or even thought to question his authority for that matter; should they have liked to get rid of him-- should they have desired vengeance-- now was certainly the time to exact it.

                                      However, with men like Stout aboard, he doubted such was the case-- at least in this instance. His first mate was the one giving the order, and he was likely overwhelmed by the thought of losing the only son he had ever known. Alaric would never admit it, possibly not even to himself-- that the thought of anyone being proud of him the way Stout was, filled him with an abundant amount pride. Still, a father's fear that one day the gods might take his child from him, was enough to make any man do something stupid. And said idiocy was manifesting itself right this moment.

                                      Yet, Alaric didn't move.

                                      The fear that he might be killed steadily crept up on him, but he shook it away at the sound of a familiar voice. It was distant, botched by the sound of the waves crashing over one another and the cry of the crew a ways off, but it was there. Alaric had hair in his face, salt water in his eyes, coupled with the memory of his mother-- making it hard to focus as he waded in the water. He head turning left and right, albeit he was too afraid to whirl all the around. The leviathan was staring down at him with a challenge in mind, and should Alaric move, it would attack.

                                      The mere waves from the creature's body smashing into the surface was enough to pull Estelle under, as he guessed she was only a few feet away from him at this point. So instead of making any moves himself, he hoped that she would get close enough to grab on; that way, he would not be separated from her during the second attack. However, he didn't account for the fact that he knew not when she would reach out for him. As soon as he felt the warmth of her fingers brush his arm, he turned his head to answer her call only to find that the beast had already calculated for such movement. It squealed again, and rose up into the air like a spear before it plunged into the heart of the enemy, diving beneath the water to create the very current he had assumed would divide them.

                                      Estelle's grasp on his arm was all but firm-- all but desperate-- and therefore the grip she had on him was lost in the chaos. He sank below the waves once more, his legs kicked furiously to keep him from drowning in the place he had once thought to be his home. Suddenly, the seas had turned against him. Nevertheless, he saw this an opportunity to prove himself once more to the gods. He could survive this, it simply wasn't his time. Nor was it hers. Alaric believed in divine test. And this was one of them, just as every foe he had ever faced belonged to such a list. He was strong-- stronger than any man he knew. And the man respected himself far too much to die here. He would keep his word. Estelle would not perish this way...

                                      It was then that the captain burst through the surface, gasping for air in an almost asthmatic way. His lungs were burning as he had swallowed a great deal of water from the unexpected assault. "Estelle!" He was choking her name at this point, coughing up what felt like blood it was so painful. Yet despite his speech, his body was beginning to betray him. He was tired-- the lack of sleep he had gotten in the past few days was beginning catch up with him and it was not going to be merciful. Alaric's muscles were aching, but his body promised him one more turn before it gave out on him completely, and luckily Estelle came bursting out of the water, flailing her tiny arms like a mad woman.

                                      Although these were desperate times, he found himself smiling in amusement. However, his pleasant expression was quick to falter as he heard the alarming sound of the cannon's firing in the distance. The Sea Dragon had turned, and was now dousing the enemy in cannon fire as it emerged not far the two who floated in the water.

                                      Alaric attempted to put the danger out of mind, but flinched every time a cannon hit the ocean. Spouts of dark liquid shot into the air, smacking down on his head as he swam to get the woman in his grasp...and fortunately, he managed. His hand snatched hers, which was small in comparison, and tossed her arm over her shoulder just as the current pulled them under. Alaric held his breath, opening his eyes to see where the beast was positioned so he could move around it. His arm wrapped her waist tight to be sure he wouldn't lose her in the fight, and began paddling toward the general direction that the ship was now headed.

                                      Everything on his body felt like fire at this point, as if it would go up in flames at any moment, but he didn't quit. Eventually they came to the surface again-- after what felt like forever-- to find the ship not far from them. The creature was quiet, and the cannons had stopped. It seemed the struggle was over. "Someone throw the captain down a rope!" Stout screamed in a panic, his tone shaking like a leaf in the wind.

                                      Alaric glanced up at the man, whose eyes showed both gratefulness and reprimand, before looking to Estelle to make sure he wasn't dragging along a limp body. "You alright, lass? I told you to do a better job killing me, not yourself." He was astonished by his own will to survive sometimes, and reached over to pat her face with his free hand just in case she about to lose consciousness.

                                      When the rope fell over the side of the ship, he reached up to take it, and allowed the men to pull them up to the rail. Stout grabbed Estelle's hand and Alaric pulled himself up and over, but did not flop onto the deck like a fish. Instead, he found the need to fake anger, for the sake of his motives not being questioned. "Are the lot of you out of your minds! You could have hit me!"

                                      "But captain..." His gunner, Trigger, began incredulously.

                                      However, the man merely held up his hand to thwart his rebuttal. "Should you not wish for a repeat of earlier, I'd hold my tongue." He hissed, taking Estelle by the arm roughly to lead her down below the deck toward his quarters. Alaric thought it best to leaved his crew to stew over what they had done wrong. Although he knew he was the one who had acted foolishly.

                                      Alaric pushed open the door, and once they were both inside he hit the wooden floor like a log. "That was an adventure!" He shouted into the wooden planks, with a short laugh. "Surely you will bring me more test from the gods, so that I may show them my valor!" Alaric turned his head, resting his moist bare skin against the floor. "You are indeed a magnet for trouble. And desperate to escape death, if only to discover that such is inevitable."

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                                                                              ♦Estelle could feel the weight of the sea beating down on her and had all but given up hope when suddenly a hand reached out to engulf her own. In a miraculous display of endurance, Captain Axton had managed to defy all odds. Resurfacing and finding his way back to her so that he might take hold of her once more. And as much as the man would have made her skin crawl with defiance any other time, she found as much the complete opposite now. She wanted nothing more than to return to the ship with this man and continue on as they had been without any mention of this incident ever again and as if to further express as much Estelle allowed him to pull her arm around him. Her other falling in suite as she wrapped it around his chest just in time before another wave came crashing down upon them. Estelle held on for dear life and what air she had managed to fill her lungs with as they were cast down below and lost amidst the sea. It was sheer determination that she believed pushed the captain as even then after having been tossed about numerous times by the waves and current he did not falter. She could feel him pull her close as the man began to propel them through the ocean and around the horrendous creature that seemed intent on killing them only to resurface beside the ship in one piece. By now Estelle’s chest throbbed and her lungs ached with each breath she took as she expelled the remnants of their horrifying endeavor. She could hear the crew shouting now as he spoke to her but the fairy was without the strength to answer, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness before being pulled back to reality by an abrupt tap to the side of her face. She blinked several times before nodding with a somewhat dazed expression and clung to the captain as they were quickly hauled out of the water and towards the railing of the pirate ship. Once they reached the top, the man she knew to be the first mate held out a hand for her to which she gratefully took it and allowed him to assist her in boarding. All the while ignoring the looks the crew was giving the two of them as she crumpled down onto her knees. Captain Axton made no delay in reprimanding his crew for their actions prior to being rescued and shamed them for their lack of thorough thought before whisking her off the ground by the hand and dragging her below deck where they trailed back into his room. Estelle was without the strength to argue and as soon as they entered and he released her, she immediately wandered towards his bed where she collapsed. Laying on her back with huffs of air escaping her lips as she attempted to gather all that had happened.

                                                                              It wasn’t long before Axton returned to his cocky, arrogant self. Stating how her desire to escape would only bring him more glory and that her desperate need to evade death would prove that such would follow her no matter what. She snarled at the thought and dragged an arm out and next to her where it latched on to one of the man’s pillows and threw it at his head with what strength she had left before laying back down and pulling the majority of his bedding around her for warmth. Her hair clung to her face, neck, and shoulders and her over all temperature had dropped immensely. But she was alive. And that was all that mattered…. For now. ”So that’s that then.” She didn’t want to accept it. But it seemed that this was the path the gods had chosen for her. Captain Axton had yet to change his mind. And although she had thought that dying for the crimes she’d committed prior to having met him was the right way to go….. it was clear now that she’d been wrong. For one reason or another the heavens had deemed her purpose to die not for what she’d done wrong, but to save the life of the woman this man loved. ”I hope she’s worth it Axton. This lover of yours? I hope she’s worth dying for. Because the gods have done a great deal to see I don’t stray from the path you’ve laid before me. Can’t say its fair… having so many decide my fate for me. Suppose I deserve it don’t I? For all the terrible things I’ve done?” Perhaps it was the sea water that had gotten to her brain or those few minutes in the ocean with a restricted amount of oxygen. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from admitting it now. Estelle’s brow furrowed and her eyes shut as she clutched the bedding around her. Inhaling deeply as the events of the past year came rushing back. ”I wasn’t always a bad person. A bad mother…. I had a son. The most beautiful little boy. Dull, dark brown hair. And blue eyes just like his father. Sun kissed skin…… He was only four months old when Prince Corvis came to me. Courted me. Told me he loved me. And I’d convinced myself I felt the same.” Her eyes opened briefly as she recalled the bitterness upon mentioning the prince’s name but continued on without restraint. If she was going to die then she wanted someone, anyone, to know. To know all of the blasphemous truth and not just what the people of Moriel believed. She needed this. ”But he was a selfish man. And he thought it wrong for us to be together whilst raising a child that was not his own. He said he would be unable to care for another man’s seed as his heart simply would not accept him as it did me. He….. convinced me that in parting with my son…… by giving him away…. I would be offering him a normal life. A life with two parents who loved him rather than one and a bitter step father. I was possessed. Poisoned by my infatuation with the man and blinded by his lies. And so I did as I was told. I gave him away to a woman who Corvis said was unable to bear children and her husband. Both of which lived far outside of Moriel, in the forest.”

                                                                              There was a part of her that was reluctant to say the rest but she knew that to stop now would leave her unsatisfied. She wasn’t sure if the captain was listening nor if he cared but it mattered not at this point. She needed to finish. ”My son was eleven month’s old when I gave him away. I doubt if he’ll ever remember the time spent with me. But still….. I couldn’t keep away. I sought to find him. To see him if only one last time before he turned a year old. But when I came across the couple I found that they did not live outside of Moriel as I was told but just beyond the castle itself. In town. And they were no longer in possession of my child. Corvis had him sent away outside of the city with a man I know not the name of… An elderly gentlemen they said. One who was told to be of good heart but of little wealth and means of taking care of a child. I’m certain he was paid a hefty amount for the placement of my son. I confronted Corvis about it but rather than confirm the couple’s story he informed me of his intention to wed the daughter of a nobleman. He said I’d become far too bitter in the time of my child’s departure and that he could not stay by my side to see me through my deterioration. That it wouldn’t do him any good to marry a coordinator as it would a noble woman and that the act of dismissing my child was for my own benefit so that I might have the time to better myself. To gain a higher position amongst his father’s staff.” Her eyes burned with anger as the memory of Corvis’ exact words formed across his lips as the young golden haired woman approached his side. Her shining pink nails dazzling beneath the lighting of the castle only to be out shown by the engagement ring on her finger. ”He made me give up my son….. And so I poisoned the b*****d.” She smiled as she reflected upon the moment the prince had lifted his glass towards his lips that night in celebration only to choke on the fine wine. ”He raised his hand high in toast at his engagement party. Gave a fine speech regarding his soon to be wife and the splendor of a life they would share with one another and how they hoped to soon start a family of their own. Words I had hoped to be his last. And I enjoyed every moment after as he fell sputtering to the floor, hacking on his own bile and draining his life’s essence with each breath he took after partaking in that glass…… But he lived.”

                                                                              Estelle let out a long yawn as she flipped on her side and began to ease herself into a state of slumber. ”It didn’t take long for them to figure it out as I’m sure you could imagine. I was the coordinator. I was responsible for the entire event. I would have noticed it unless the tainted glass had been intentional. And so I was sentenced to death. Or at least I would have been had you not came along." Her lips curled into a smile as her final moments of consciousness weighed heavy upon her shoulders. Memories of a child’s cries for consolation ringing through her thoughts as she opened her mouth to whisper one final admittance. ”My baby turned a year old that day you know….. Its funny to think….. that the hour that was to end my life…. Was the beginning of his…..” And then she was gone. Out without a second thought as the strain of their experience consumed her and sent Estelle’s small frame rising and falling with each steady breath she took in her fatigue driven sleep.


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                                      The morning had approached with great speed, and the sound of his first mate's call could be heard through the ceiling of his quarters. Stout may not have been a very boisterous man when it came to Alaric-- as he respected him, and knew how to speak to him in tone that even the most stubborn of men were usually willing to given consideration-- however the crew was another story. He had not been the first mate before the death of the former captain, but rather a swabbie-- someone who kept the deck clean and ran around doing the dirty work of higher ranking crew mates. Most were surprised when Alaric chose him to lead, dropping the former captain's quartermaster to third in command. Previously there had been no first mate position among them, not until Alaric requested that Stout start taking charge in his absence. Of course many were unhappy, but they learned quickly not to question their new leader. Despite his effort not to hold grudges against those who abused him under the order of the former tyrant, Alaric made an example of out any man that spoke ill of him, or disobeyed his command.

                                      In addition to that change, there was another; rather than the Sea Dragon's operations only being assigned to carry stolen good back and forth, Alaric took up exploring. Albeit, he hadn't completely stopped pillaging and plundering, but he certainly didn't do so in every Kingdom where they happened to make port. The crew was now looking beyond the idea of worldly riches and looking to earn a name for themselves; they wanted to be revered for the dangers they faced on the open seas and have their names written in the history books of every archive. There was also a hope that the Keeper would be willing to grant them each a wish of their own, although they were well aware that Alaric's demands came first. Not to mention that legend had it, the portal was filled with things lost to the world. No matter what, they would not be leaving Rivdar empty handed. So regardless of their lack of tangible wealth, the group knew that the success of this mission was a step in the right direction. The closer he got to the end of the list, the more liberated he felt. And it was only a matter of time before he found himself standing upon the threshold of the ancient ruined city. He could almost taste the victory, and yet, when he opened his eyes he found his lips upon the shoulder of one of the ingredients he needed to attain it. Her skin, although clammy-- was gentle against his and for a long time he thought she was naught but his pillow until her hair tickled is nose.

                                      Immediately he sat up, his eyes darting around the room trying to recall just what had occurred last night-- but it appeared he was fully clothed, and the door was open. Last night was a bit of a blur to him. His adrenaline had been so high he hadn't much thought about anything what Estelle had said. But it was all flooding back into his mind, crashing over him like waves had the night prior. He remembered her rambling about the Prince of Moriel, his planned murder, and the blue eyes baby boy she was forced to give up. It was a depressing tale, one he didn't think a woman like this capable of telling, but his mother had always thought him to never judge a book by it's cover. Part of the reason he was still alive, was because he hardly ever underestimated an opponent. But perhaps that's where he failed. He had seen Estelle as a non-threat, and therefore it was easy to judge. Alaric had thought that she knew nothing of hardship, and yet here she was...suffering. In honesty, he was a man that didn't condone giving up a child, because he felt his father had been wrong in doing so to him. But judging her based on decisions she had made under the influence of another was not his job. The gods would punish her. And it seemed she was in the process of such now. She had lost the Prince, her child, and was sentenced to death in front of her family and friends. She was humiliated, beaten, and broken-- yet still alive. Life was not always a gift. Some chose to die, rather than deal with the decisions they had made over the years once they came full circle. So it was strange to him that Estelle had chosen to endure. She was not ready to die. But what was she living for?

                                      Whatever the case, he wasn't going to find the answer in her cleavage, which he found himself staring at, before he rolled of the bed onto the floor. Alaric positioned his knees under himself and said a quick prayer to the gods in regards to his task of slaying of werewolf, prior to giving Estelle a rough shove. He still didn't know how he had gotten in the bed with her, but the sheets were moist, and his pants were still unpleasantly so as well. "Get up." He groaned, jumping to his feet and starting toward his closet adjacent from the bed. She couldn't very well keep walking around in the gown she had on; the sea had practically torn it to shreds. It was also too long for a place like the forest and could get snagged on a branch, giving the werewolves the advantage should they find it and stiff them out first. Luckily, Alaric had a good deal of women's clothing. He had plenty of women in this room, most were gone before morning, and some left without what they came with. Of course, he could have put her in the attire of one of the cabin boys, but then he would be doing himself a disservice. As much trouble as Estelle was, she was still nice to look at, and he wasn't going to cover her in a blouse and trousers.

                                      "I'm going to teach you to fire my pistol. If yesterday was any indication, it's obvious that you haven't had much weapon training. And you will need such, if you want survive the rest of this journey. If you couldn't kill a man as insignificant as the Prince, you will not survive the bite of a werewolf." His back was turned to her, as he sifted thought the lower portion of his closet, yanking out a few dresses and tossing them over his shoulder onto the floor in the space between them. "Unlike the previous night, I will not be around to save you every time you're in trouble, especially if you're not even planning to reward me for risking my life to do so." It was silly, but he was still waiting to here her say something remotely nice about him. Maybe she thought him a pig because he was attempting to solicit sex from her when he supposedly had a 'lover.' Of course, he could have corrected her. But there was no point. The idea of having relations with her was less appealing now that he understood that the gods were using her a vessel to show his strength. Nevertheless, he would have to keep up appearances for the sake of the crew. Which is why he assumed he woke up next to her this morning. Either that, or the harsh nature of floor was just too much to bear. "See if one of those suits you..." Alaric glanced over his shoulder to be sure she was listening.

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                                                                              ♦Estelle awoke with a start, her body rolling off the side of the bed as it was propelled by a sudden jolt to her shoulder. Fortunately the cold wooden planks of the floor were there to catch her and served a brutal motivator to get up once she’d landed. Her eyes narrowed upon seeing the captain and she lifted herself off the ground with a groggy expression, clearly unprepared for the day ahead but knowing the importance of making an effort to do so mentally if not physically. There were dangers ahead that would not cater to those unready to face them. It was true, werewolves were somewhat thought to be a myth and even know Estelle found herself somewhat doubtful of their existence. But then again she would have thought the same of the leviathan that lurked the waters beneath them as well had it not attacked them the night before. Captain Axton on the other hand seemed far less doubtful when referring to the task and was eager to make good on adding the beast’s blood to his collection. As well as educating her in the ways of battle. ”Does that surprise you? The people of Moriel hadn’t any need for combat training less one wished to aspire to a knight or guard. And even so, such are hand picked. Chosen at a young age from families known for their physique and strength. Though I’m sure they’re questioning such choices after having been so easily overwhelmed by your men.” It wasn’t a compliment, but merely an observation. Axton’s crew was strong and he was even stronger. For one man to outwit an entire civilization of fairies was unheard of. It made her wonder just how long he’d planned his attack…. and how long her fate had been set in stone. ”With all do respect, captain, I don’t believe me stealing one of your boats, ransacking your kitchen, and pilfering a map from your room implied that I’d wanted you to rescue me should all else fail.” He’d implied he wanted her dead. And yet this was the second time since having met him that he’d gone out of his way to ensure she lived. He did not need her body. It was her blood he sought…. So why did he wait? Why hold back and more importantly why choose to keep her alive? He didn’t have to. But he did. And for that she was grateful. ”I do not think it suites me to ‘reward’ a man who has otherwise pledged himself to another let alone one I find little appeal in. Nevertheless I am…. thankful for your efforts even if it is only to delay the inevitable.” She watched as he threw garment after garment of women’s clothing of all sizes and lengths onto the floor and whereas she initially thought that such might belong to the woman he was attempting to save, it was clear after the first three garments landed at her feet that these did not all belong to the same woman. Their tastes were too far apart and their sizes just as differing from the last. At first she thought it strange that the man carried so much aboard his ship when clearly his crew lacked a feminine figure meant to adorn such objects. But it didn’t take her long to come to the right conclusion.

                                                                              Estelle looked down at the pile of clothing and back up at the captain with a sigh, uncertain of how well the clothing of countless prostitutes and whores would ‘suit’ her, but finding that there was little else that could be done. The gown assigned to her from the prison was in poor condition and by no means the proper attire to go gallivanting about in. Nor were the gowns on the floor of course but they would function nonetheless. ”Right…..” She inhaled a deep breath and clumped the pile in her arms before making her way towards the bathing room where she took a moment to soak herself in the tub and rid herself of the ocean’s salty stench and exchanging her torn garment for one of the far more luxurious pieces in the pile. It was a corset piece with a curtained bottom half. The bustle of the skirt covered the back of her legs but the front gave her plenty of room to move them about freely. Normally she would have chosen attire that was far more conservative to the eye but the rest of what he had offered her weren’t any different and all seemed to have odd ends or bits cut out in places where a man’s gaze was predetermined to wander. Whoever these women were, they had wanted to be seen whereas Estelle found herself wanting quite the opposite. As unlikely as it would have been, even if the fairy had wanted to attempt an escape whilst on this island her new garments wouldn’t have allowed it. She could be spotted in a crowd had she been placed there. And although she wasn’t one to boast over her figure and how well bred she was, even Estelle was finding it difficult not to stare at herself in the mirror. It didn’t feel like her….. It felt as if she’d robbed another of their skin and was preparing herself to parade about as such. Unfortunately it was the best she could do given her choices. So after spending a great deal of time tugging at the bottom and top of her dress as if to miraculously increase its length the woman left the confines of the room and made her way on deck.

                                                                              Estelle needn’t announce her arrival as she was sure that the boots alone had done so as they clacked against the floor boards causing her to wince with each step she took. She felt oddly exposed. More so than she had prior as the bodice of the corset hugged her torso and the bustle of the gown brushed against the back of her legs. A few men stopped to glance up before resuming their work only to stop dead as soon as they registered what it was they’d seen, leaving her fairly uncomfortable beneath their gaze as a tidal wave of the reaction overcame the men. Estelle’s face burned as she second guessed her decision to change at all and turned to retreat back into the captain’s cabin but was foiled by the now ascending crew mates who were quickly moving to join the rest, carrying weapons of silver in hand and casting her looks as they passed by. They weren’t all pleasant of course. There was a decent portion who offered her nothing more than disgust and spat at her feet but she decided that such was more over her acts the day prior in having tried to kill their captain as well as the fact that she was still considered a means of gain in the eyes of many. Their captain may have saved her but clearly there were those who felt he should have done otherwise. Unfortunately for them Estelle did not take kindly to being disrespected whether it be looks or actions, and swore to herself she would prove herself just as threatening as the next man who dared to feel the need to treat her poorly. It didn’t take long. The same man she’d gotten in a scuffle with the first night she’d arrived approached with waving eyebrows as if pleased with her appearance only to purse his lips to spit at her feet as the other few had. But she was not as dismissive. Estelle grabbed the sides of the man’s face with one hand and embedded her nails in his cheeks with a scowl causing him to change his expression from one of pleasantries, to shock. ”Keep your fluids to yourself, a*****e.” She hissed and gave his foot a quick jab with the back of her heel, causing him to tumble back in pain as the rest of the crew gave off subtle sounds of amusement. She could have been wrong….. but she was beginning to think she might have won a few over.


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                                      She had won over more than a few, but Stout was still just as adamant about her departure from their realm as he was a few days ago. His captain had arrived in a state of bewilderment. And as the conversation progressed, the first mate was starting to see more and more why he kept this woman around. It wasn't for the sake of mission, but to keep up appearances for the gods. He believed that demonstrating his strength was what made a man-- when really it was such that he harbored inside that did so.

                                      In addition, Alaric wasn't use to being openly rebuked. And it was obvious that the woman's disinterest in him was both intriguing and frustrating to the man. Stout had walked past his quarters that morning, and had seen them in the bed together, quelling most of his nervousness about his captain keeping a woman on board and calling her his whore, yet made no use of her. The crew would grow suspicious if they believed he was keeping her along for 'nobler' reasons. But they were indeed active. However, it seemed that she was only doing it for Alaric, not because she necessarily wanted to. And he couldn't fathom a female not being taken by his physical charm.

                                      Stout had always admired his captain's prowess, but he was nearing the end of his life, and such was not a possibility for him any longer. Although he was not a woman, he thought Alaric to be outwardly pleasing to eye for both men and women. Males wanted to look like him, and those of the opposite sex wanted to be with him. It was natural. But from what he had gather Estelle was the exception. "She sees no favor in me. It has been two nights and three days, and yet she still finds me...unappealing."

                                      Alaric spat on the ground at his own feet and stepped on it with a heavy boot-- the word having put a nasty taste in his mouth. He was displeased with the talk he had with his prisoner this morning. He had not received the reaction out of her that he would have liked. And was starting to think that she actually found both his mental and physical state to be below average. Yes, she was grateful, but it was not her gratitude that he sought-- it was her admiration. "I desire to know why this is..."

                                      Stout, Lank, and Jolly stood on the Helm as their leader paced back and forth, waiting for advice that they were obviously afraid to give. Explaining to the man that he may have been a bit rough around edges for Estelle, was difficult, given his awful temper. When he asked for answers, he really only wanted what he wanted. If they were to give him a response that did not suit him, they would be punished. "She merely plays hard to get, cap'n." Lank said, moving away from the wheel as the ship hit the bank of sand on the outskirts of Valaria Island."Surely you know that no woman could resist a man like you."

                                      Alaric heard this, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His confidence hadn't exactly taken a plunge, but he needed to be sure that he was still the man had always been. Estelle made it clear that she did not wish to reward him because he had a lover, but before she had known such, the answer was still no. "Oh, indeed captain!" Jolly grinned moving forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "You were cut by the gods, and she was merely their waste. We all are."

                                      Alaric huffed, his chest puffed out like a balloon. "Yes. I suppose so."

                                      "I only speak the truth captain. She does not deserve you, nor does any whore in this Land. Worry not, many humans fear perfection." Flattery was the reason Jolly remained alive and well, treated better by the captain than anyone else on the Sea Dragon. He knew how to talk to Alaric. He knew what he desired to hear.

                                      "Agreed." He said, reaching out and grabbing the back of his head with a firm hand, to pull his face close and kiss his forehead. "You are a good man."

                                      The bosun smiled greatly, his teeth reflecting the sun which was high in the azure sky by the time they had made it to shore. "And you, a good captain."

                                      Alaric had bathed downstairs, and brought a change of pants with him. The crew was already preparing for the group he had chosen to begin their trek on land. "Why don't the two of you just get married alreadeh!" Rang a strong voice from the stairs, as Trigger appeared, a silver sword thrown over his shoulder and his fist closed as he present it to Alaric.

                                      He whirled around, his eyebrow raised as he held out his palm for what he had brought. Several silver colored bullets fell into his hand and he closed it in excitement, punching the large man in his arm. "You made quick work of such new material. I must admit, I am impressed."

                                      "I have never failed you before, I shall not begin to do so now."

                                      Such was a truth, one that made captain nod his head in acknowledgement. "I will be taking Jolly, and Stout with me. You and Lank will hold down the fort until my return."

                                      "Will do."

                                      Alaric passed him by, descending the stairs of the quarter deck, to the main-- to see if Estelle had emerged. Including two of his highest ranking crew-mates, he was also bringing along ten other men. They were the best at hand to hand combat out of all his men, and needed the talent in abundance for whatever they faced on this journey. Not only that, but most of them were gentler souls because they had been through hardships and would be willing to keep the prisoner from harm.

                                      And speaking of the woman, there she was. The men cast her looks, as the clothing she had on wasn't exactly something that they had expected to see her in. And as many as Alaric had seen in racy dress, she was the most elegant of them all. Even in something as revealing as this...she looked like royalty to him. His eyes trailed over her momentarily, before he swallowed hard in an attempting to eat his own mushy thoughts. When he looked upon a woman he wanted to lust after her in all the wrong ways...but instead he marveled over her gracefulness. Right now, he found himself wishing that he had put her in rags as he thought to do originally. She didn't look like his whore at all; she looked like an angel that had descended from the heavens...

                                      "Captain..." Whispered Jolly as he came to his side with his bag in tow. "This should have all your things in it. Stout will be joining us in a minute. Are you...alright?"

                                      Alaric coughed loudly into his fist and looked down, to take the sack, dropping the bullets in his hand inside of it, before he threw the strap over his shoulder. "I am fine." He assured him.

                                      "Your cloak?" Jolly offered with a smile.

                                      "Yes, hurry and get it. We're making good time. I do not want to fall behind."

                                      "Indeed." With that the young man left him, and Alaric went to talk to Estelle.

                                      Upon his approach he roughly snatched her hand to look over the fingers that had been hurt in firing his pistol. They were bruised, but not broken as he suspected. She would be fine to practice. "You would have done well to ice these this morning. I made it clear that you would need them." Alaric's tone was not harsh, or cruel-- merely informative. His eyes found hers briefly; they were a strange color, unique to her. "If you cannot shoot, then for everyday of practice you miss you'll be given an additional chore. You may not want to be saved, but I am not ready for you to die just yet."

                                      He removed the belt from his waist and wrapped it around hers, yanking her close as he snapped it around back so that she would be possession of both the holster and gun. But just as they moved in close-- their bodies brushing, he grinned devilishly. "That Prince doesn't know what he's missing, lass." With that he smacked her face with his palm roughly, like he might do one of his men and jerked his head toward the ramp. "Do not separate from me." His smile vanished and he started away from her toward the ramp. "Let's go."

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                                                                              ♦Estelle was on the brink of breaking into another dispute with the man, opening her mouth to further assault him verbally for how he’d treated her but just as she readied herself to do so she felt a firm grip take hold of her. Her arm was lifted as the captain approached and observed her hand in his. An intriguing comparison given their differentiating sizes but clearly the focus was on something of more significance. He went on to rebuke her for her bruised fingers and how she should have tended to them that morning but Estelle wasn’t nearly as focused on his words as she was the tone he used. Despite having shown aggression in his approach, the man’s voice was far less so. A detail that hadn’t gone unnoticed and in turn greatly surprised the fairy. He was by no means a gentle man but he wasn’t necessarily a heartless brute either. In fact Estelle wasn’t quite sure what to make of him anymore as his words and actions were continuously clashing with one another in a display of inner conflict. It was too subtle for any of his crew to take note of and even if they had, she highly doubted they would have openly addressed their concerns with their leader. Yes, he wasn’t a heartless brute but that didn’t exclude him from being the latter. She’d seen for herself just where his anger could lead. Strangely enough although it had initially startled her at first Estelle no longer feared the man’s wrath. She’d given him just as much reason as anyone to kill her, even having gone as far as to accept the idea at one time or another but here he was…… putting the gun in her care rather than to her head where it would have made quick work in ending her life. Worse yet, he wished for her to learn how to use it. A skill that could just as easily be used against him should she try to kill him a second time. Still, Estelle wasn’t fond of the idea of having to scrub the deck anymore than she had the day she arrived. And should he wish to force her to possess the ability to attack him with more accuracy, who was she to stop him? ”Yes sir, captain sir.” Estelle muttered with the roll of her eyes after having been forced into close proximity with Axton, receive what she thought might have been a compliment, and have the possible moment ruined by the manly gesture he made in patting her face with a rough hand. The man most certainly was a Neanderthal in manner. ”I’d be careful what you wish for Axton. I might shoot my own foot off getting this damnable thing out of its holster but I can assure you that I’ll endure the pain long enough to put a bullet twixt your shoulder blades if it means not having to clean up after your men.” She mused openly and was surprised to feel a smile etching across her face once the words parted from her lips. The sensation was strange… but welcome. It had felt as if it had been forever since she’d last found amusement in anything.

                                                                              It was a blessing that the forest was as beautiful as it was for had it been any less appealing surely she would have found displeasure in the company of the pirates amidst what was more likely than not a wild goose chase. Estelle still expected the existence of the werewolves to be nothing more than an urban legend. A myth passed down through generations as a way of scaring children into coming home before curfew. Not only that but the landscape itself was peaceful and without sign of destruction with the exception of a few trees that had fallen from age. Flora and fauna were blossoming within the lively walls of their surroundings and not once did she feel threatened. The group continued to travel silently through the woods for the entirety of the morning without sign of life beyond that of the white tailed deer or occasional bird that fluttered amongst the treetops….. At least until sunset crept upon them. They were slowly loosing light and it was obvious that if they didn’t find a place to stay soon they would eventually find themselves with nowhere to rest their heads other than the ground beneath their feet. And although Estelle would have preferred to stay firm in her lack of faith of such creature’s existence, she most certainly did not want to spend a night in a supposed cursed forest to find out. ”I don’t suppose you had a plan of where we might stay should we find ourselves…. Without shelter?” She grimaced and looked towards the men to either side of her. Both of which seemed equally uncertain of their fate should they be forced to sleep in the forest but not so much as daring to make mention of it. Just as she’d suspected. ”I doubt you’ve packed a tent made of silver amongst your things. So what do you suppose we do?.... It’s too late to turn back….” One of the men rested a hand on her shoulder in a form of reassurance before pushing past the rest and making his way beside Jolly and Axton. ”We won’t need to. Look.” He gestured up ahead and just as he did so Estelle was able to spot a break in the forest. Where the overgrown dirt path had lay before them now rested a trail anew made purely of stone. But that was only the start. As she broke away from the group and raced up the path to join those in front the sound of running water flooded her ears as did the sight of what could only be described as one of the most charming villages she had ever seen. It was quaint…. Soothing even. And by no means did it fit the description of the home belonging to a clan cursed by the gods, and damned to roam the night as beasts. ”This can’t possibly be what we are looking for…. This place is…. It’s beautiful.”

                                                                              ”….Thank you.” She hadn’t even heard the man approach and that alone was enough to startle her. But his voice…. It held a gravel to it that reminded her of that of the warriors that her father spent his time around during her younger days as a child before her mother had decided that such a place was not where she wanted her daughter to call home. ”W-We were just-“

                                                                              ”I know.” The stranger laughed and nodded towards captain Axton and his crew before addressing what would have been Estelle’s explanation for their arrival. ”It’s been a while but I know what visitor’s look like. Though I don’t recall having ever seen as many all at once. Nor quite as pretty…” Estelle felt her face flush and opened her mouth to respond but not before one of Axton’s men could butt in. ”She’s the captain’s whore.” There was a myriad of snickers that followed with the statement from the rest of the men and Estelle could feel her face burn with frustration towards the statement. ”Relax gentlemen, I’m merely making conversation.”

                                                                              ”B-But I’m not…… And he’s most definitely not-…..!!!!”

                                                                              ”Nor do you look like one, so worry not.” The man added with another laugh and looked over to address the captain who he could only assume was the man in charge given his place in front of his men with the exception of Estelle who was now both bashful and bewildered by the fairly awkward introduction. ”Going by the way you came, I can only assume that your journey here was a long one. My family runs an inn located just up the pass beside the lake if you are looking for a place to stay for the night. And I can promise you that we will be nothing short of hospitable.” He said with a smile and although she’d only just met the man Estelle was fairly certain that he was trustworthy, pushing aside all doubt she’d had about the island prior and concluding that her lack of belief in such stories were well founded. It simply couldn’t be true. Not here.


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                                      Alaric thought he saw a ghost of a smile upon her face, as it seemed that their senses of humor did not greatly differ. However, he was never a man to make empty threats, and he had always warned his men not to make them in passing-- unless they wished those around them to stop taking their word seriously. Should Estelle desire to stay alive and useful, she would learn the same. He wanted her to have confidence that there was no trade she couldn't be taught. Of course, the art of shooting was much more difficult when under duress, but she had proven stronger than she looked. He was not concerned with the idea of her failure. In turn he merely offered Estelle a smirk over his shoulder, as he joined Jolly to descend the Sea Dragon's ramp. "I will be sure to keep extra bandages for just such an occasion... Miss Whitlock."

                                      The reason she was in this mess in the first place was because she couldn't properly execute an assassination on the Prince of Moriel. Should she want to end the life of another man, and the gods saw fit, Alaric would be sure she was ready. For the next attempt may have made the difference between her living or dying. Luckily, the divine had tipped the scales away from the latter, but next time, she may not have been so lucky. In honesty, he likely wouldn't have cared if he didn't feel as if it was suddenly his duty to make her one of the crew. He didn't normally take on training new members himself, and usually handed the task off to the leader of whatever portion of the ship the newbie would be stationed in. But for some reason, he thought it best that she stayed with him.

                                      He didn't trust his men with a woman. If Stout's initial idea of taking sex from her and then killing her wasn't enough indication that was he right in not doing so, then the fact that a man had almost tried to lob her head off last night, was. Alaric wanted Estelle where he could see her. Therefore, teaching her the ways of a pirate on his own was the most viable option, and the one he had chosen to go without even having to give it much thought. Surely it was more work, but with a body like hers, he wasn't complaining. Surely her tone could use some work, not to mention she was a bit suicidal, but in time he would get use to such. Perhaps she would even come around to sharing his bed, because although he had given up notion, he wouldn't have denied her should she change her mind...

                                      The forest was certainly a sight for sore eyes. He hadn't ventured through one for several months, as there had been no need given the precise list that Olivera had left behind. But now that he was here, he wondered why he hadn't missed it more. Emerald vines from the trees lined the path, as the leaves above created a canopy that allowed rays of tepid sunlight to caress his face every so often. The bushes were in abundance, and the brown branches thick as they passed through in the hopes of finding a clearing. But as sun began to set, Alaric began to wonder if they should stop and step up camp until morning. His men had packed light, but they had enough to eat for three days and a few blankets for resting. Unlike those who were use to clean sheets and a soft pillow-- pirates were use to roughing it. Because of the fact that they hadn't a house on land, they found the wilderness to be a suitable home when their ship was a ways off.

                                      Alaric knew that dangers likely awaited them, but he was use to being up for several days straight, and should he have to keep guard-- he would. The man was not concerned with things as trivial as sleep. But it was obvious that Estelle was beginning to become concerned about a place to lay her head. They had been walking for several hours straight with no break, and could understand why she worried. However, he would have preferred she kept such fears to herself. The crew knew better than to question the preparations of their captain. Had he not thought the mission through, they would have dealt with whatever hardships befell them due to his negligence, just to keep from being punished.

                                      Fortunately for Estelle, Alaric hadn't the chance to chastise her before one of his men pointed out a quaint village up ahead. It was a strange sight, especially given that this island was said to be forbidden. The seas surrounding it were heavily guarded, and it wasn't likely that those who arrived here got to depart-- let alone build a place so appealing to eye. And yet here it was. The sound of running water was the first to find his ears, and the glow of sun upon the bronze tinted waters was almost hypnotizing. So much so, that he did not see the dark haired man approach. It was his voice that startled the captain back into reality, but it was his compliment toward Estelle that made him leery. He looked upon her with a lack of lust, that was almost sickening to a man like Alaric, as he did not think it natural to be void of such hunger when looking upon a woman so beautiful; that is unless he was intentionally hiding such. And when it was pointed out that she was his whore, by one of the middle aged men in the group of twelve that he had brought along, the man claimed his stated observation was for conversational purposes. However, Alaric was skeptical.

                                      There was something oddly tranquil about the presence of this man. And because of that, the captain felt on edge; he felt like they had been lured into a trap. Not only that, but Estelle had the nerve to deny what she was! And although such was not a truth-- keeping up the appearance that it was, was the only think keeping Stout from pushing it blade twixt her ribs. It seemed that with every step forward she took, she was then knocked back two. Alaric felt his face turn red with frustration, as he shifted her eyes toward her; he faked a smile as best he could, without losing his temper. "If she were not my whore, she would be in the grasp of the Keeper right now, for I have no other use for a woman. She may not look it, she may not accept it. But mine she is. So keep your eyes to yourself, 'less you lose them." He spoke calmly from beneath the hood of his cape. And although his eyes could not be seen, his threat was not to be taken lightly. By him, or her. If Estelle was caught with this man by any of his crew, she would be killed, and he would not be able to stop it. However, it wasn't just his men that concerned him. The man before them was a curious fellow-- one he would be sure to keep an eye on.

                                      Alaric reached out and place a firm hand on stranger's shoulder, practically turning him back toward the direction of his village. Estelle was clearly flustered by his observation of her beauty, and he was sure that Stout was already plotting ways to get rid of her should she chose to lay with another. "You lead, lad. We will follow." Alaric said, patting him roughly as they began up the cobblestone path toward one of the cottages on the highest part of the hill where the village sat.

                                      There weren't many people wondering about, and those that he did see were cloaked as he was. Many seemed weary of making eye contact, which made the captain all the more eager to have his room so that he may get at least an hour of rest before nightfall. He was not safe here...none of them were. Unfortunately, it seemed he was the only one who received the notification, as all his men took off in different directions before he could tell them his plan for the night. Alaric was left with his mouth hanging slightly open as some went to the bar and others left out the back part of the cabin to bathe in the spring.

                                      He, Stout, Jolly and Estelle were left with the stranger who showed them to the second floor where they could occupy any room they wanted. Just to be sure, the captain removed a silver coin from his inside pocket for the man to take, but he merely held up his hand and said, 'this one is on me.' Alaric would have insisted, except he didn't want to appear overly obvious in his assumptions that the man may not have been what he seemed. Instead he huffed loudly and left the hallway, going into one of the rooms and slamming the door behind him like a child.

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                                                                              ♦Estelle was dumbfounded by this man’s need to continuously address her as something so demeaning as a whore. And in the presence of a stranger nonetheless. She had made clear, as he was aware, that she had no intention of sharing his bed. But then again perhaps that was why he’d chosen to introduce her as he had. Axton, as concluded prior, was not a heartless man but he was impolite, boisterous, over confident, and self glorifying. He thought himself better than those around him and in a sense, a god amongst men. She’d seen it in the way he treated the crew as well as how he had seemed so certain of her desire to sleep with him. And so she could only assume it was for that reason that he hid the fact that she had rejected him. Pride. Perhaps the captain, as brave and daring as he was, simply could not fathom the humiliation accompanied in being rejected by someone as insignificant as she. It was obvious by the collection of women’s apparel in the bottom of the man’s wardrobe that he wasn’t often told ‘no’. And so Estelle wondered….. Just how many times had he been rejected in the past? ”It would be my pleasure. This way, then.” Estelle let out a sigh as Axton and the man walked side by side up the path and towards one of the few structures scattered about. Unfortunately before they even managed to make it halfway up the trail the crew began scattering about the village like a colony of ants. Choosing for themselves how they would be spending the remainder of their evening despite their captain’s apparent frustration over the matter. It wasn’t long after they had reached the inn that Axton too went his separate way, slamming the door to one of the rooms behind him in a fury and thus leaving Estelle to do as she sought fit. However, the fairy wasn’t quite sure what that was. The captain had told her to stay close to him but it was clear that the man desired time to himself. Had he wanted her to join him he would have stated as much which only left her with a few remaining options. The man, now seen to be the inn keeper, seemed charming enough to carry on a decent conversation. One that would have been the first with anyone unrelated to the pirate ship and its crew. But with the captain’s room not but five feet away and the awkward introduction followed by the lingering threat Axton had given him should he so much as look at her, she doubted an exchange of word would appeal to the man. Despite the casual glances he cast her every now in then in passing as he moved to the back room behind the front desk.

                                                                              It hadn’t escaped her that the Inn keeper wasn’t the one man watching. Even now as she stood motionless in the middle of the hall she could feel the burning gaze of the small man who had accompanied them from the ship burrowing into her back as he stood behind her. Why he neglected to go on his own way as the rest of the crew had was beyond her and she likely wouldn’t have cared otherwise had his presence not sent a shiver up her spine. It was not his physical stature that alarmed her so much as his penetrating gaze and unwillingness to turn away if only to give her some peace of mind. And so she decided to seek as much elsewhere. She left the inn behind in exchange for the scenery of the village and began traveling up the road where the homes thinned out and the marvelous forestry took over. Strangely enough the path seemed to lead in no particular direction and just as she’d begun to fear she might be wandering too far out, the trail circled back around several homes and towards the main path once more. As before, few seemed interested in paying her any mind and although some did pause momentarily to sneak a passing glance, they for the most part ignored her all together. Hiding beneath the hoods of their cloaks timidly before scurrying back into their homes or around the corner. Estelle quickly grew somewhat wary of this along with the fact that although she had left the inn the first mate had not at all stayed behind. A frustrated breath parted from the woman as she picked up her pace with Stout in tow and made her way back towards to the inn where she hoped to spend the rest of her night in peace, undisturbed by crew or captain alike. It was wishful thinking. But unless told otherwise she planned to continue with her evening of solitude. It was the first in a great while and greatly needed. And she wasn’t going to be so foolish as to dismiss the chance so easily.

                                                                              The grounds were silent and the sun had begun to sink behind the trees casting an array of purple, blue, and magenta over the sky. Night was closing in. Estelle quickly hurried back inside the inn where she passed the now vacant desk and left the first mate to do as he wished whilst she parted for the room next to the captain’s, slamming the door as he had in an attempt to make it clear to the little man that she too would not be coming out any time soon and he need not bother to follow her any longer. Within the walls of the inn bedroom she found a bed, a large empty wardrobe, a fireplace, and several small candles that dimly lit the room. It wasn’t much light but it was just enough to navigate about the area without stumbling over any of its contents. Estelle moved for the bed in an eager attempt to catch what she hoped would be a peaceful night’s sleep but just as she pulled back the first layer of blanketing she heard a hushed knock on her door. Thinking it was the small man, she let out a groan and reached for the knob and yanked it open. ”For heaven’s sake what do you wan-…. O-Oh. Uhm-“

                                                                              ”Camille. My apologies, I merely thought you might need some more of these.” The inn keeper said holding up a stack of several sheets. Her room was already well stocked but she wasn’t in any place to discard his hospitality. It may have been the last she received for a good while once they left the island and returned to open seas. ”Yes, yes of course thank you, I’m sorry I thought you were-“

                                                                              ”Someone else?”

                                                                              ”…Yeah….”

                                                                              ”I see. Are you always this busy at night or did I just catch you at a bad time?”

                                                                              ”What? O-Oh no! No not at all! I-It’s not like I just-“

                                                                              ”Oh I’m only teasing you love.” He interrupted with another laugh as he shut the door behind him and moved towards the wardrobe where he opened it up and placed the stack. ”I don’t believe I got your name. Nor your friend’s but I suppose he can wait.”

                                                                              ”Estelle….”

                                                                              ”Estelle……. That’s a beautiful face with a name to match. And what might you and your men be doing so far from civilization, Estelle?”

                                                                              ”Sight seeing I’m afraid. The captain has been searching for something and our travels have led us here. Sadly I doubt what he’s looking for can be found in your village.”

                                                                              ”Oh? Well I’m sorry to hear that. But hopefully your stay here will make the visit worthwhile no?” Camille stood and slowly approached the window off to the side of her room before coaxing her over with the wave of her hand. She stood close by as he placed a hand on her farthest shoulder and knelt down to point out the window towards the sunset which was quickly fading into the early stages of night. But nonetheless a magnificent sight. ”it’s-“

                                                                              ”Beautiful? Yes. It always is.” She could practically hear the smile on his lips and to feel so at ease without the threat of being harmed…. To be shown kindness without expecting anything in return…. It was more than she could ask for.

                                                                              Estelle continued to focus on the magnificent display of light as she felt Camille shift behind her, releasing her shoulder before letting out a sharp puff of breath and extinguishing the candles illuminating the room just as the last ray of sun faded behind the horizon. ”Camille?” Her voice wasn’t worried, but rather questioning as she looked upon the glass of the window but found that the reflection of the man had gone. Alarmed by his sudden disappearance, Estelle whirled around to search for the man but as she did so found herself overwhelmed with the musty scent of a mutt. She reached out into the darkness but within centimeters of her body felt the rough exterior of think and mangled fur. The woman let out a short cry and reeled back just as the yellow eyes of a large fanged figure snarled down at her. It didn’t take long for Estelle’s eyes to register what it was she was seeing but before she could be given a chance to scream the beast clamped a taloned hand around her throat, forcing the air out of her windpipe as it slowly began crushing her. Her mind was alight with thoughts of desperation, pain, and confusion as she clawed at his hand but to no avail. But the gun…. She still had the gun. Albeit she didn’t know how to fire the weapon and doing so would quite literally be a shot in the dark it was the only thing she had on her person that would pose as a threat to Camille…. Or whatever this thing was. She could feel her body losing its strength with each passing second as her fingers weakly began trailing Axton’s belt for the pistol before at last finding the holster. Her hand curled around the handle and yanked the weapon from its sheath and without warning, her finger slipped into the trigger and pulled. The sound of the pistol’s gunfire resonated off of the walls and left her ears ringing as Camille reeled back and howled in agony. Blood staining his dull grey on his thigh as he threw her to the ground and snarled. Estelle’s temple struck the bed post but still she managed to hold on to the pistol even as he descended upon her. Several more shots were fired into the dark as she clambered across the floor and made a break for the first sign of sanctuary she could find. The wardrobe. Having been left open, Estelle leapt into the small space and pulled it shut just as Camille threw himself into it causing the closet to fall back. She could just barely hear her own screams over the sound of the wolf’s roars as he tore away at the wood, a hand breaking through and piercing her shoulder as his mouth ripped through and exposed his yellow eyes and gnashing teeth. Estelle didn’t wait. She pulled the gun up to her chest and pulled the trigger as many times as it took and then some until at last she was met with pure silence. And even then, she could only lay there as the blood of her enemy dripped through the splintered wood. Her finger still repeatedly pulling on the trigger causing the room to echo with an eerie click as she rest frozen beneath the monster. Staring into his lifeless eyes. She’d been wrong. They had found the clan. And with the sound of her gunfire, the entire village had come to life.


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                                      In honesty, it hadn't come to Alaric's attention that the word 'whore' offended her. He thought that she merely denied it to seem desirable in the eyes of the stranger, so that would seek favor in her and attempt to keep her for himself. Certainly she sought a more kindly soul to master her. But what she did not understand was that the gods desired her death. And it was only by his hand that she had been saved. Trouble would follow her wherever she went, and that was precisely the reason the Inn Keeper's open attraction to her made the captain so leery. He knew that beauty was apparent to all, however to engage her without fear that one of the men in the group was her jealous husband-- aroused concern in him.

                                      Luckily, the sun would be up for at least another hour. And from what common knowledge about werewolves had spread across the Land-- such were turned by the light of the moon. As one who slept in increments, he didn't expect to rest long, but he had done something foolish. It wasn't long before there was a knock on his door, whilst he was removing his leather boots and emerald cloak. She was a lovely woman, with long dirty blond hair and a kind smile. In her arms were a pile of blankets, and atop them a wooden circle with a sandy colored mug upon it. Alaric's gaze shown interest, without shame as usual, having forgotten the threat of werewolves fairly quickly. It had been sometime since he had laid with a woman, and as always, he underestimated the deception of the opposite sex. For some reason, he saw them as weaker, and unable to think on their own unless properly trained like dogs. And it was that thinking that allowed her into his arms, his mouth ravishing her own, and slipped into the crook of her neck. She dropped the blankets, and slammed shut the door with her foot as her arms snaked up around his neck; and that was the last he recalled of it before he stirred beneath the sheets.

                                      His body ached from what he had assumed had been a much needed release, but he was wrong. His pants were still on, and the woman was gone. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to open his eyes to look around the room. Frantically Alaric shot up, running his hands over his face in a panic. He had been deceived. And it was probable that his entire crew had been killed due to his only weakness. Rolling from the bed and onto the floor, he struggled to see; he realized that his eyes were open, but the vision wasn't there. It was slowly coming back to him, but with the time it was taking-- someone could have already slit his throat; the question was, why hadn't the woman done so already? What was the point of drugging him? Alaric felt feeble in that moment, as if he was a pawn in a bigger plan. And for the first time he felt he needed to be disciplined for his ignorance.

                                      "Captain!" There was pounding on his door in that moment, as the sound of Jolly's timid, yet distraught voice came through. With now blurred vision the man crawled across the floor toward the sound and fumbled with the lock before it came open. His bosun quickly reached down and grabbed him underneath the arms pulling him to his feet as he began an almost delirious rant.

                                      "A trap...this was all a ******** trap! And we walked right into it! Where is Stout...Estelle...is she with him?"

                                      "Captain please." Jolly pleaded, looking up at him in alarm-- the way a son would his father. "You're eyes are bloodshot, can you see?" It was in that moment, when he began to respond that gunshots rung out, along with a familiar cry. By this time, Alaric could see enough to push Jolly out of the way and move toward the sound of shots next door. He banged on the door, but as his had been-- it was locked. "Please, let me--"

                                      "No! You go find Stout! And be careful, these are no usual men."

                                      "Yes sir!" Jolly shouted over the loud racket that was coming from Estelle's chamber. Alaric stumbled backward away front the handle, realizing he wasn't going to jiggle it open. The gunshots had stopped, which meant it was possible she had been overwhelmed already. Firmly planting his barefoot in the door, he kicked it open with incredible strength as splinters of wood went flying in every direction, piercing his exposing flesh which caused him to bleed. He hit the floor at the sound of more shots, but another noise among the chaos was even more aggressive. The sound of snarling, as a dark shadow pounced on the wardrobe. It had fallen over, and bullets were fired into the beast as it whimpered like a wounded puppy before it slumped over onto the furniture having been killed by whomever was inside.

                                      And judging from the gunshots-- it was Estelle. Alaric felt a panic take him over again, but this time it very different. Whenever she was in trouble he felt almost sick; he believed it to be self concern. For the gods were testing him again, and he was about to fail miserably. He didn't know it, but his face was veiny with dark lines ran out of his bloodshot eyes. Slowly whatever had been used to keep him unconscious for so long was wearing off due to his adrenaline. Alaric staggered to his feet and scrambled over to the corner of the room, where the black furred werewolf lay atop the wooden closet. He reached down and attempted to yank the large body off as a call came to him from the door.

                                      "Captain! Are you alright?" Stout shrieked nervously.

                                      "I'm fine, get the vile-- fill it with blood and go!"

                                      "I'm not leaving without you!"

                                      "Stout! Now is not the time to be a hero! Get the blood, take Jolly, and get out of here!"

                                      An eerie howl filled the air, as Alaric's eyes moved toward the window, where the moonlight shone in. The sound of gunfire had woken the town, and there was only a matter of moments before they descended upon the group like flies. "Yes sir." His first mate hissed under his breath as he ran into the room, removing a vile with a needle attached. It was only after he had finished that Alaric remembered the clicking of his pistol inside the wardrobe; his attention returning to it, as he practically ripped the door off the hinges, and reached inside to pull Estelle out-- making sure he didn't grab the apparent gash in her left shoulder.

                                      Instead he took her right and lifted her out until he able to get his arm under her legs and carry her. Stout was gone by the time he managed to get the woman into his arms, cupping her body against his protectively as the sound of feet on the floor above caught his attention. He glanced down at her, his breaths heavy as he tried to figure out what to do, or which way to go. "I see that you won't be doing extra chores aboard the Sea Dragon tomorrow morning." He made light of the situation in a soft whisperer the best he could with baited breath. The werewolves were stalking around above them, and like hounds they had a great sense of hearing. Alaric feared moving. He had sent Stout ahead for the sake of dividing the group, as they would be too easy to kill in a clump, and luckily he had been right in doing so.

                                      A unified roar came from the hall, as wolves passed by in pursuit of his first mate who had gone after Jolly. Alas! The extra bullets he had brought along were in his cloak in the other room and he was unarmed. Soon the passing of shadows by the doorway ended, and Alaric finally thought it was safe to move. Having Estelle pulled close to him, he savored her warmth as his eyes darted around. But just as soon as he turned to move toward the door, the ceiling cracked and a pack of three werewolves fell down through the plaster above, causing Alaric to drop the woman and fall backward.

                                      "Run!" He warned her as two pounced on his body and third looked around for his own meal with hungry glowing yellow eyes. Flesh was torn from Alaric's chest in a matter of moments, as he lifted his leg to kick one from his torso and reached up for the throat of the other with his hands. He groaned beneath the weight, and for another first in his life tonight-- he worried that he his overconfidence had displeased the gods.

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                                                                              ♦Blood continued to drip from the carcass perched atop the wardrobe and stained her skin with its inky black discoloration as she lay motionless in the small cramped confines of the box. She could hear shouts coming from the corridors but was without the will nor power to move in fear of drawing more attention. There was little room for sensible thought amidst her panic as she lay in wait until footsteps broke the dull silence of the room followed by the same voices that had drifted from the hall. Estelle was too shook up to differentiate ‘friend’ from foe and continued to pull mercilessly on the trigger of the pistol as her breath caught in her throat. She was out of bullets but for some reason she’d managed to associate the weapon with safety despite how much she disliked having to actually use it…. It was the same way she felt about captain Axton. And as if to further prove this realization, the moment Axton tore open the wardrobe doors and cast the corpse aside Estelle was flooded with a sense, not of fear nor anger, but relief. He knelt down and scooped her up into his arms to which she happily clasped the pistol to her chest with one arm and laced her other around the man’s neck, not daring to so much as look forward as they barreled into the open hall. But just as she was beginning to find peace in the arms of her enemy the sound of splintering wood broke out from above and sent both her and the captain tumbling across the floor as three wolf like beasts surrounded her captor. There was a split second of uncertainty as she watched the man being dragged into the frenzy of ravenous claws and teeth. Shredding his skin as he demanded she run. To do so would leave him to die. And although she would have been eager to do so but two days ago the woman was suddenly finding herself conflicted. Unfortunately there was more than just one factor contributing to their predicament and before Estelle could even begin to consider a plan of action she was interrupted by the third yellow gaze that found its way into her own. The werewolf that had not taken part in the assault on Axton shot across the corridor and towards the fairy with stunning speed, closing the gap fairly quickly. And had she not darted into the room next to her own and locked the door she would have most certainly perished. Estelle backpedaled into the space, tripping over a small pile of sheets before turning around on her hands and knees and peeling herself off the floor. A window lay on the other side of the room with the curtains pulled back allowing the moonlight to flood the perimeter and signifying the perfect escape route should she choose to take it. But as Estelle pried the frame open and felt the cool night air brush her skin she could not ignore the pounding coming from the other side of the door nor the sounds of the wolves attempting to devour the one soul who had bothered to save her life on numerous occasions. It was true that Axton had his own personal goals in mind when sparing her life. But during their time together he could have just as easily dispatched her without any consequence. There would be no mark on his soul for killing a woman already condemned to die. If anything, ridding of her own useless form would help him in saving the woman he loved.

                                                                              So why let her live? When all she ever wished was for his own life to be brought to an end so that she might escape, why spare her? Estelle wanted to ignore the thought. She wanted to shove herself through the open window and flee the inn. Forget all that she had felt here. Forget all those she’d met. But then what? She had no life beyond this man and as terrible as it sounded…. He was her purpose. Without him she would have died and should she choose to let him pass into the next realm now when he’d done all within his power to make sure that didn’t happen to her, it would leave her with nothing. She’d lost everything. Her son, the man she loved, her home, her place in the heavens….. But Axton… Despite it having been for selfish means, he had given her a reason for existence and even if it was to die for the sake of keeping another alive there was no shame in such a fate. She understood now. To die for the crimes she had committed was a punishment. But perhaps giving up her second chance to live for someone more deserving would rectify the wrongs she’d done in the past. It would be an opportunity to regain her honor. ”Damn it…. Damn it damn it damn it!” Estelle seethed as she pulled her leg back through the window and began searching for something, anything she might be able to use against the wolves on the other side of the door. The third that had ignored the possible kill its brethren had seen in Axton was now peeling apart the planks of the doorway and ripping through it like fabric. But just as its head poked through and it began ripping away at what remained between itself and the potential meal the fairy could provide a shot rang out and the body went limp. Estelle’s hand shook as she reloaded the pistol with what bullets remained and pulled the captain’s cloak over her shoulders as she barreled into the door, knocking its damaged frame off the wall and taking the corpse with it. Estelle stared at the two wolves hunched over the pirate and with only seconds to spare as they looked back at her, she shut her eyes and began firing away blindly, nailing the beasts in several different places and paying no mind to the man squirming beneath them as she opened her eyes to reload. By now the wolves were shrieking in agony as the silver bullets seared their flesh. Still, Estelle remained merciless and began firing another round after having shakily raised the gun once more. This time with her eyes open. ”Stop moving you b*****d!” It was uncertain if her words were directed towards the individual on the floor or the werewolves hovering over him. But either way it no longer mattered.

                                                                              The sound of the bodies slumping over with choked breaths was enough to let Estelle know that the fight was over. She opened her eyes hesitantly but once she found reassurance in the visual the deceased wolves provided she immediately ran to the captain’s side and hovered her hands over his wounded flesh, noting the bullet hole in his right upper bicep. ”I told you not to move!” She hissed and struck the side of his arm in a scolding manner only to regret it upon laying her eyes upon his chest once more. Without wanting to risk the scent of his open flesh alarming the rest of the pack, Estelle slipped off the man’s cloak and urged him upright before wrapping it over him gingerly and getting to her feet. Where as her manner of addressing him prior had been briefly gentle the urgency in her desire to flee easily overpowered her caring nature as she began tugging on his arm towards the room with the opened window. Already she could hear the sounds of the clan closing in on the entrance of the inn and with how many shots she’d already spent Estelle doubted their ability to kill off the rest. Despite the sudden revelation she’d gone through prior to having returned for Axton, she had no intention of delving into the matter openly. Nor was she certain it was a product of pure thought. Her mind was skewed and her emotions at an all time high. There was no telling how poor her reasoning was. And yet still….. she did not regret it.


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                                      Alaric was surprised when she hesitated to run, but he didn't have much time to concern himself with whether or not she had followed his command. Instead, he was attempting to focus on the immediate threat that loomed over him. The beast that lay on top of him, had it's nails digging into the already tender flesh of his torso. And without a weapon, the captain couldn't be sure how much longer he could stave off it's attack. The initial werewolf, which he had been kicked from him with incredible strength, was now regaining it's wits as it peeled itself off the wall of Estelle's chamber. It's eyes trailing over the body of the dead Inn Keeper, who had returned to his human form after several minutes of laying dead by the wardrobe. Although they seemed to be naught but ravenous creatures, Alaric knew that inside they were human. And seeing their comrade laying dead was a blow that would be met with a ferocity that the group hadn't prepared for.

                                      Admittedly, the man had begun to mentally abuse himself for how foolish he had been to think he could come onto this island and attain what he sought without casualties. The gods were likely tired of his habit of relying on them to keep him safe, because he believed that they favored him so due to his display of power. And still, he did not think himself wrong, merely arrogant-- a trait that was difficult to subdue on his own. Alaric believed that thinking any less of himself, would make him less of a man; it would make the gods lose faith in him. Therefore, his thoughts clashed with one another, as his body did with the werewolf astride him. The beast gnashed it's fangs, as saliva dripped down and burned the fresh crimson colored wounds on the captain's chest. He clenched his jaw, fighting not to cry out and show weakness as the other finally made a second attack on him, pouncing down just he began to overwhelm the first creature by clamping on it's throat with both his callus hands. All ten of his fingers were pressing down into it's fur hoping to cut off the beasts' air supply, but it was taking far too long. And by this time, he was sure that Estelle was dead-- having been chased down by the third werewolf that had fallen from the ceiling.

                                      Alaric fell back as the other landed on him, knocking his hands away, and snatching his only defense. He hit his head on the floor and groaned loudly as the wind was knocked out of him for what felt like the first time in his life. He was weakened by the lack of oxygen and he knew that there was no way out. After all he was done, it seemed such would be for naught. That is, until the sound of gunshots rang through the air. Alaric wasn't sure he could trust his own senses, but it was hard to deny the whimpering of his assailants as they were pelleted by whizzing silver bullets. Estelle could be heard fumbling with his gun and cursing the creatures as a second round came very soon after. And that was when a pain stuck his body that could not be explained with words. He screamed in agony, a noise even more threatening than that of the werewolves whose souls had finally departed from their bodies. His right bicep had been hit, and he was positive that it was not a mere flesh wound. Although Alaric was quick to fire his weapon, he had never actually been shot before. And now, he would be reluctant to do so on a whim ever again. This pain was without equal. Yet, as Estelle came and leaned over him at his side, it subsided long enough for him offer her a devilishly grin in reply to her statement. He shouldn't have been surprised to see her alive. She was human, but she seemed to be damn near indestructible. Life had shown her no mercy, however perseverance was in her nature. Surely, Estelle was a gift from the gods.

                                      "I wasn't moving, lass. But when it comes to aim like yours, I don't think such matters much."

                                      She was easing him up at this point, but he was so delirious that he hadn't noticed until the blood started to rush back into the lower regions of his body. Alaric groaned from the pressure of his own weight as she offered him his cloak and got him to his feet. He lifted his hand to fumble with the clasp wearily, whilst she began pulling him toward the window in a hurried fashion. It was clear that she had enough adventure for the day. But the captain couldn't seem to pull himself together. His vision hadn't fully returned, and he found himself squinting now that the adrenaline was draining along with a great deal of his blood. He wouldn't be able to make a jump from the second story. Alaric didn't even know if he was going to live another minute with the way his knees were wobbling beneath him. "Estelle, I can't." He moaned, reaching up with his left hand to clap it over the right side of chest in order demonstrate his depleted state of mind and body. "You have to go without me."

                                      He yanked away from her, falling to his knees among the wreckage of the room, hardly able to believe that he was about to surrender himself to the enemy. It would only be a matter of time before the entire town was scouring the Inn for blood. "Which is really a shame because I was legitimately looking forward to seeing your glory." The man wasn't in his right mind. Although, he never have found any humiliation in admitting that he wanted to bed a woman even when he was. "My men have gone to the ship. Head north--"

                                      "Captain!" Stout cried falling into the room, and tripping over his own two feet as he rolled over several objects from the momentum.

                                      "I told you to leave!" Alaric roared, his authority returning to him in a matter of moments, as the chubby man staggered to his feet shaking debris from his round form as he reached down to help him up.

                                      "And I told you that I wasn't going to depart without you!"

                                      "What of the vile?"

                                      "Oh forget the vile, Alaric! I care only about you!" The man huffed, out of breath and obviously not built for this kind of combat.

                                      "THE VILE STOUT!"

                                      "Jolly has it." He grumbled in reply getting his arm under the captain's before he realized that the man had been shot. "What the blood hell happened to your arm!?"

                                      Alaric knew he shouldn't, but he smiled, glancing back at Estelle. "She shot me."

                                      "I am allowed to kill her now?"

                                      "She is a hard woman to kill."

                                      "Yes...well, I'm sure I can manage." He spat, starting to assist Alaric from the room toward the hallway.

                                      Downstairs, they were met at the backdoor by two other men from Alaric's crew who had a wheelbarrow full of weapons that they had stolen from the artillery room in the basement. "Empty it! We're going to put the captain in." Stout shouted over the sounds of the howling and scratching of werewolves prowling outside the building.

                                      "Why? What's wrong with 'em?"

                                      "A myriad of things. Pick one." Stout growled as the men dumped the metal wheelbarrow for him to drop the captain in. "Let's go."

                                      Unfortunately, such was easier said than done. The backdoor fell over, as hungry wolves revealed themselves. In turn his first mate took the pistol from Estelle and pushed her over on top of Alaric as one of the men grabbed the handles to the wheelbarrow and began running down the hall, followed by Stout and the second member of the crew. The windows were crashing in now as they passed by, glass shattering everywhere, as Alaric looked away and wrapped his strong arms around Estelle to be sure she wasn't ripped from his grasp. The group came bursting out of side door and started down the path, closing the door behind them to keep the werewolves from following suit so quickly.

                                      Stout had started fumbling with the weapon in his hand, and finally began firing several shots at the beast who tried to attack until they vanished into the woods, meeting up with Jolly and three other men. The rest, Alaric assumed, were lost in the chaos. "Captain are you alright?"

                                      His grip loosen on Estelle at this point, as he lost consciousness.

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                                                                              ♦It was a long and straining run back to the ship and although for the most part Estelle had spent it atop the man she now knew as captain Alaric Axton, that didn’t mean she was without her fair share of worries. Not long after he’d gone unconscious the crew hurried themselves as best they could up the overgrown path in what they believed was the direction of the ship. In the meantime Estelle had kept her focus on peeling off pieces of fabric from the bustle of her gown and wrapping them firmly around the captain’s wounds until they managed to get to safety where his injuries could be properly addressed. It was a tedious task and one that wouldn’t guarantee his survival. But it was the best she could do for the man who had saved her life. Should he die now, she knew that she would be held responsible. And not only by the crew, nor the gods, but by herself as well. She’d waited far too long to turn back to help him and as a result he had come out of the fight a broken man. Never had she thought that someone of such courage and strength could so easily give in to the idea of defeat and for some reason she thought herself responsible for that as well. On top of it, she had shot the man. Yet despite all of that he had managed to try and make light of the situation through humor. As if somehow jokes would brush off the pain and defeat. Estelle shook her head as she sat straddled atop of Alaric after tying the last knot around his bicep and hopping off the side to help push the wagon the remainder of the way. By now day light had arrived and the sounds of the beasts had long since faded as had the village they called home. ”You think he’ll make it?” Huffed the man next to her as they continued pushing the wheelbarrow. It wasn’t until she glanced over at him that she realized he was addressing her. ”What?” He gestured with his chin down at Alaric as they proceeded and let out a cough as he tried to catch his breath. ”The captain. Never seen em this bad…. You’re a fairy. So you know a lot about healing right?” Estelle couldn’t be sure whether the man asked out of honest concern or if there were hidden intentions behind such inquiries. Either way she dare not risk what damage could come should she openly announce her fears. She did not know how Alaric’s crew would react nor how they would treat him should they suspect he was nearing his deathbed. ”…..Yes, of course…. He’s going to be fine. He just needs rest. Now keep pushing.” Thankfully the man gave a nod and continued to help press them onward without any further incident.

                                                                              ”He’ll be fine…”

                                                                              As soon as they approached the ship two deckhands immediately began lowering the ramp only to pause as they saw Alaric lying motionless in the wheelbarrow. They were soon joined by others and it wasn’t long to see that there was an immanent problem amongst them as they stood motionless, staring down at their leader. ”What the hell are you waiting for? Let us up!” The man to the left of the ramp turned to the one on the right before grinning deviously and switching back onto the group below. ”On who’s command?”

                                                                              ”What-…. What do you mean on who’s command? On ours damn it! LET US UP!”

                                                                              ”Sorry love but that’s not good enough.”

                                                                              ”THE HELL IT ISN’T! The captain’s wounded!!! He needs-“

                                                                              ”And that’s precisely my point. Alaric ain’t lookin too good fellas. As a matter o fact I’d say he’s just about ready to hit the kicker if you know what I mean. I think it’s about time we’ve had our annual negotiations. The lot of you is askin for quite a lot from the likes of us. As I see it you don’t have all that much to offer on your end of the bargain so to speak. A whore, a dead man walking, a sea rat, and a swabbie. Not much at all” There were a few chuckles from the lot gathering around the ship’s rail and although none went to confirm the sneaking theme of mutiny, none fought it either. ”And that’s more than half what your worth in gold!!!” The man frowned and scoffed at the mere thought of it before turning back towards his fellow deckhand on the right of the ramp nodding for him to pull it back up. ”Even if that were so there is plenty on this ship to make up for what I lack and many fortune’s worth scouring for…… Haul in anchor gentlemen. It’s time the Sea Dragon sought out a more profitable horiz- And all fell silent. Amidst the man’s sudden claim over the crew and the ship harboring the men a single shot had rung out and as heads turned back towards the group left on land a single pistol could be seen pointed amongst them as the traitor’s body fell over the rail and into the shallow tides below. Estelle had snatched Alaric’s weapon from Stout in a sudden display of aggression. And whereas before her hold on the gun had trembled it did not do so now.

                                                                              Estelle nodded the barrel of the pistol towards the man who had begun moving towards the anchor and gestured back towards the ramp. ”Let down the ramp.” He scowled but slowly moved to do so, allowing the man pushing the wheel barrow to load Alaric onto the deck followed by Estelle, Stout, Jolly, and the two other men who had accompanied them. The sole remaining survivors. You have a medical bay?” The man who had lowered the ramp gave her a grin. ”A what?” She pulled back on the hammer of the pistol, letting out an ominous click as she pointed it at the man causing him to grimace before bitterly glancing towards the stairwell. ”Eager. He can help fix em up.” Alaric was already well on his way down to eager with the help of both the crewman and Jolly but Estelle still wasn’t finished. She knew a bad man when she saw it. And this crew was full of them, looking for one simple excuse to overrule their captain. ”You ain’t no one to be giving me orders. I’ve been here years and I ain’t seen nothing good come out of that boy. I don’t know who you think you’re kidding-”

                                                                              ”And what have you done? Where’s your contribution to this crew? You’ve been here years but what have you got to show for it? And you think I have no right? I’m the whore, remember? I may not provide much but it’s a hell of a lot more than a useless s**t like you has ever done. So unless you start ******** the captain I’d suggest you take a seat and remember just who you’ll be dealing with in the next few hours. Because when that man wakes up I can guarantee he’ll be looking for you…. And that goes for the rest of you as well!” And with that Estelle turned away to descend the stairway where she sat outside of the captain’s chamber and awaited the verdict on his current condition and allowed the unease and nervousness she’d held back moments ago to settle in, full force.


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