It has always been the smell that bothered her the most, especially on hot days. At the bottom floor, just above the keel, where the floor was sloping down towards the middle was where the slaves were kept, manacled with chains to the outside hull. Their excrement and waste would collect at the lowest point, creating a foul-smelling cesspool. A thick miasma that threatened to asphyxiate the slaves themselves, which is why the hatches leading into the compartment had to be kept open. This minimum of air circulation kept the slaves alive, but also meant much of the rest of the ship would have to suffer the stench. A stench that only got worse as the waters and ship warmed up. She considered simply keeping the hatches shut, but concluded that the vicious flogging she would receive should the valuable cargo perish wasn’t worth the trouble. The mitalibs of the Rundeen weren’t known to be a very understanding lot, afterall.
Tomyria was jolted back into the present by the warm breath of the half-orc behind her on the back of her neck. She was currently kneeling besides the mass of muscles behind a few crates within one of the ship’s smaller cargo-holds, staring at the laddered hatch leading down to the lowest deck with the slaves. She grimaced as she finished loading her crossbow and looked over her shoulder to Clutz. Tomyria was sure his name wasn’t actually Clutz, but it is the one everyone used for him so that was that. In the darkness of the cargo-hold she could barely make out his gray skin and the large tulwar he was carrying, scarce illumination coming through a porthole as the sun just began to rise and through the singular entrance through which lantern light from the corridor beyond was shining. She gave him an irritated look in response to which he only shrugged before looking past her to another man in cover behind a set of crates nearby.
‘Alright, listen up.’, Helios, a fellow tashalan and corporal of the squad Tomyria was a part of, spoke up. ‘These scumbags will regret picking this ship to raid.’ Helios drew his shortsword from his scabbard and peered over the top of the crate he was waiting behind.
‘Hrasting gnat-brains, what happened to simply asking for a bribe?’ Next to the corporal Leandro piped up, his large ship-boarding axe held ready in both hands. Tomyria knew about Leandro that he was from some northern kingdom, a disgraced noble fleeing some internal conflict or other. The aging man made claims to once have been the leader of some warband, before coming to the Shining Sea to work for the Rundeen as a marine, something she doubted to have been true.
Standing by the door leading into the hold was Narla, a young woman with blonde hair, listening out into the corridor beyond, a dagger held ready in each of her hands. Tomyria wondered how old Narla really was. By the looks of it she couldn’t have been much older than eighteen, if that. Narla only joined their squad a couple tendays back when they set sail from Lushpool. From the conversations they had Tomyria concluded that Narla has likely been some street-rat there, looking for a better life through violence in service to the Rundeen. Tomyria could respect that, afterall there was no nobility in poverty, but having someone so young with them still unsettled her. The way Narla held herself there in the doorway also told Tomyria that this was unlikely the first battle the young woman took part in. Violence and poverty always have been close-knit compatriots. She squinted as Narla held up a hand.
‘I hear two coming, sounds like the pirates.’, Narla hissed back towards Helios.
Helios nodded. ‘Alright, we get them quietly then join the fight above.’ The corporal motioned for Narla to step away from the door and get in cover. He then looked to Tomyria and indicated towards the crossbow. Tomyria understood the wordless command and held ready.
Grungel kept a tight-grip on the scimitar in his right hand as he stalked down the corridor next to Thaban. The fighting up top was not going well, there were too many armed soldiers for their band to fight. The call for retreat would be sounded soon, no doubt, but he would hate to come out empty handed. So he decided to take Thaban down below deck with him. He reckoned the marines were all on the deck fighting already, so the two men could perhaps get lucky and find some loot to take with them. Thaban went infront and squeezed into the first door on his left. Grungel could see past Thaban that it was just a small room with a couple of cots and a bunk-bed, maybe enough space for five of the crew. Thaban was quick to begin search for any valuables in there.
‘Keep going, Grungel, there’s another room ahead, check there.’ Thaban ordered Grungel, letting out a low chuckle as he found a bead-necklace in one of the small bags in the room.
Grungel sneered. ‘We split after, don’t get too greedy.’ The large man then stalked further down the corridor. He tries keep anything hidden, I’ll slit his throat. Grungel resolved as he peered into the next room down the corridor. This seemed to be a dark cargo-hold. He stepped inside but was quickly overwhelmed by a pungent odor coming from a hatch at the side of the room. Likely the way to the hold where the slaves were kept. The Rundeen really did treat some people worse than animals. There was no time to check every barrel and crate so he turned around to leave the room again.
As he was turned around and almost in the corridor again he heard a loud snap from behind, quickly followed by what felt like a heavy punch to the back of his head. The momentum of this punch had his chin hit his chest as the head was thrown forward and he quickly felt a numbness fill his body. He was barely cognizant of falling forward as darkness flowed in from the edges of his vision. As he fell his shoulder hit the frame of the doorway, his tunic catching on a wayward nail and tearing before he hit the ground.
He tried to move his arms to help him inspect the damage to his tunic, but his arms didn’t have the strength to move. He was suddenly reminded of the time when he came back home as a child with a torn tunic like that, one his mother had just recently bought him. He was spanked hard that day, he remembered. He promised his mother to keep better care of his clothes going forward, a promise he kept to. But now his tunic was torn again.
I’m sorry, mother, it happened again. I’m sorry, I know I promised. I’ll make it up to you.
Darkness now fully enveloped him as his last thoughts ran through his head.
Don’t be angry, mother.
Tomyria stepped out from behind the crates, the lever in hand to quickly reload her crossbow again. She looked at the corpse of the pirate now lying in the doorway, hands still twitching, a bolt jutting out from the back of his head. The others likewise came forward, but before Helios could utter a command Narla rushed out the doorway.
‘I’ll take care of the other.’, was the only thing she whispered back as she disappeared down the corridor and towards their squad’s cabin next door. Helios let out a curse under his breath as he urged the others out after her. Tomyria was the first in the corridor, noting the bitter smell of fresh urine and feces coming from the corpse she stepped over, turning to the right. She heard a grunt and a heavy thump coming from the next room over. Narla stepped out of that room, her right arm and dagger covered in blood, further sprays over the rest of her leather armor.
‘Not my blood, if you are worried.’, the young woman quipped with a cocky grin on her face. Before Tomyria could respond Helios pushed past her to whack Narla over the side of her head with his knuckles. Tomyria could only chuckle quietly at that.
‘Don’t do that again, you idiot. Do as I say, no need for show-offs’, Helios chewed her out to which Narla only replied with an angry glare and a nod. He half turned back, pointing to the half-orc. ‘Clutz, you are with me and Narla. We are going to get to the stairs and get ready to rush up. Leandros, you are with Tomyria, you two go check the parallel corridor and then join us at the stairs.’
Tomyria nodded and then had to press herself against the wall of the corridor, making sure that the bolt she already had loaded onto the crossbow didn’t fall down, to allow Clutz to pass her in the tight confines. She watched the trio head down the corridor towards the stairs leading to the main deck for a moment before following behind Leandros down the other direction. Leandros quickly peered into the rooms as they passed them with Tomyria directly behind. The only sound as the two moved through the corridor was the steady din of battle from above, growing more quiet every second. Two right turns had them heading to the front of the ship again, towards the stairs the others would be waiting at.
As they approached Tomyria could hear angry shouting and the clash of weapons from the stairs ahead. A few steps before rounding the corner there was a shrill cry with something heavy falling to the stairs and sliding down. It was Narla’s body that made the sound, now lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs in a broken heap. Her right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle as she came to a rest with her stomach down. The head was twisted around towards Tomyria, Narla’s expression frozen in a mask of shock and pain. Blood began pooling underneath her, the beginning of a deep gash just visible at her collarbone, likely going much deeper down along the torso. Tomyria swallowed hard at the sight. Hrasting hells, at least it was a quick death.
Helios and Leandros were standing besides the corpse of Narla with their weapons drawn, looking for an opening to join the fight on the stairs. A roar by Clutz drew Tomyria’s attention. She saw the half-orc on the stairs grabbing the head of one pirate with both hands, smashing it several times against the wood of the wall besides them. The wood cracked and splintered underneath the assault. A second pirate lunged forward towards Clutz as he still held the other one, striking with a long knife. It sliced into the left side of the half-orc’s face, cutting off a flap of skin including the ear. Blood gushed from the wound as the gray-skinned flesh fell to the stairs. Clutz let go of the first pirate, who crumpled dead to the floor, and surged towards the other, seizing him by the neck. Trying to use his superior strength to break the neck, the pirate resisted Clutz for only a few moments. Repeatedly and in panic he still managed to shank the half-orc in the stomach. With a loud crack Clutz turned around the pirates head as blood oozed from his many wounds. Both pirate and half-orc slid along the wall to the ground, coming to rest on the stairs.
‘Tomyria! Another!’, Helios shouted and pointed to the top of the stairs. A third pirate was standing there with a grimly determined face blocking the way, wiedling some sort of harpoon-spear. Tomyria reacted quickly and raised the crossbow, letting off a snap-shot. The bolt lodged itself into the pirates throat and he stumbled back onto the main-deck out of sight.
Leandros began clambering up past the corpses on the stairs as Tomyria reloaded her crossbow. ‘Let’s get these motherless bastards!’, Leandros shouted as he moved forward, Helios soon following. Tomyria looked back to Narla and then Clutz as she moved past them on the way up to the main-deck, shaking her head. Once there she was briefly blinded by the light of the rising sun. Judging by the noise around her the battle was about to wrap up with their victory soon. She felt a fresh and warm sea-breeze wash over her. Hrast, going to be another hot day. The smell will be terrible.
