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Chapter 1


No map of the Scarlet Sea marks the exact position of the Island. And no man knows where this land truly lies. It appears on the far east or near the Silver City, or on the south, where the waters are of the colour of blood.

Sometimes it emerges from the waves or fog, or out of thin air, in front of the astonished crew of the ship. The fisherman and sea-merchants who have seen it tell fantastic tales about the port of the Island, about the inns where the rum is the cheapest and the girls the most beautiful, and streets full of creatures that are partly human and partly beasts, talking fires and small whirlpools that whisper seducing songs into their ears.

The bay is full with all sorts of vessels, giant ships with silvery sails, frigates and galleons, ships visible only in the brief moments when the sun is low above the water and those who sail under the water only.

Many visit the Island, every day. Only a few understand its whims.

If one is searching for a ship of crew to hire, or would like to buy and sell spells and items containing magic, or would like to learn a craft unusual and dangerous, all they have to do is to take s small boat and sail into the direction of the settling sun. No matter on which part of the coast they sail, the Island appears, feeling their need.

Many visited the Island, over the course of years. Few returned.

...................................

Telling the future is a difficult task. Many threads intertwine and grow, make complicate patterns and are destroyed in a blink of an eye.

So not many could have predicted the tragedy.
It was all boring routine, the annual expedition sent by the Lord of the Golden City to catch and hang a few smugglers of spice and sun-stone, up in the delta of the Golden River.

Only did it turn serious when a third-party showed up, claiming to have some vested interest in the sun-stones and the captain and most of the officers of the Golden Crane fell and the young son of the Lord lost his arm and the board became slippery with blood. Yes, then it became serious.

No matter how many times the Opal Kingdom repeated they had nothing to do with the attack, the Golden Lords did not rest until the Opal City was reduced to salt and ashes. The cost of the victory was high, but necessary. Or so the Lord thought.

But revenge is one thing. Healing is another. The Royal Enchanter and the Healers and the Golden Priests, none of them could undo the harm and create a new, perfect, moving...arm for the son of their Lord. And none of them knew if such thing might be possible.

That is when a senior courtier said: 'My Lord. There are rumors of men for hire, who will sail the seven seas for you, if the payment is right, and they might find a spell or an artifact strong enough to cure your son.'

The Lord looked at the sage man over his pudding. 'Well. Find me such men, offer them glittering gold. Price doesn't matter.' And he smiled and continued eating. Who says I have to pay them in the end, eh?

I'm interested in joining!

Pierce sighed to herself, shaking her head as she walked about the marketplace idly. Such a dull, dull day this was. Not a streak of anything interesting around, not even a scuffle. Right now, she almost would have paid to see some random street urchin take an apple and then run for his life as the vendor chased him down! Well tehre was an idea. No, no she decided. She certainly was above that... for now. Besides, soemthing of interest was sure to come along. This town could not remain boring forever.

Earlier, she had spent much of her day at the docks. She was a retired pirate of sorts, having found what she had been looking for a few years back. But the retired life sure wasn't treating her well. It was just far too dull compared to the seafaring life she had left behind not too long ago.

She had spent her morning contemplating if she should head back to it. Even to this day she wore the garments of a pirate, complete with a striped bandanna around her forehead, and a patch for one of her eyes. Not that she blind in it, but actually more of the opposite. It saw far too much for her liking. She knew, in a way, her heart would always be out there. In the seas, taking in the brisk air and salty smells. She just felt so out of place on land, although she had been trying to convince herself these past two years she had been a pirate too long. Besides, being half siren...

Sirens were the enemies of pirates, natural enemies. Half of her was siren... what crew in their right mind would even think about taking her on? And her own funds were depleted, so it was not like she could start a crew of her own! Blast it all!

'Well, perhaps I should brake for lunch...' she thought to herself with a sigh, as she started off towards town. There was a nice little cafeteria tehre she could eat at, and buy some ale. The strongest they had... she had done enough thinking for one day after all.

The tavern was never very busy at this hour, and as Lo'qe sat at the counter of the bar, she was surprised to find herself wishing for company.
True enough the 'regulars' were sat in their various corners, but they'd been there so long she now regarded them as unusual pieces of furniture.

One of them was throwing what could well have been darts, into a rather worse for wear picture, featuring an exotic looking beast.
She clicked her tounge in disaproval. She wouldn't mind if they drew their own pictures to throw at, but mangling one of hers didn't inspire her to be very hospitable.
All but one of the pictures hanging around the room were hers. It was occasionally her hobby. Other times her means of income.
Such musing brought her to reminisce about her time aboard the Perennial. It was an aquired taste, that ship and it's crew. With lingering fond thoughts she disapered into her casket of Kelp Wine.

Ah... this must have been the place. She could smell the strong ale from here! 'Beer beer beer, tiddily beer beer beer," she sang to herself, remembering an old drinking song she had picked up from a pub her and her old crew had used to frequent. She laughed softly then, shaking her head and she chided herself for being such a sentimental fool. Those times were long gone now, long gone.

So it was with a sigh that she entered the bar. Hopping into the first barstool she found at the counter, she adjusted her long tail behind her. It was bushy, in strange colors of gold and yellow, with feathers intermingled amongst fur. Feathers that matched those at the end of her slightly elongated ears.

"Bartender! Might I order a mug of your strongest ale and a ham sandwich?" Pierce asked. She then was about to lean against the counter and wait patiently, when she noted she wasn't the only person setting at the counter either.

"So, the food any good hear? I've heard it was but I figure might be best to ask someone sitting in here and all!" Pierce wore a good natured smile, despite her one eye reflecting the lingering emotions of her thoughts earlier. But she was jovial enough for meeting a person, as she always did love talking with people. And this woman didn't seem like the typical drunk out of their mind folks Pierce usually met...

A cloaked figure sat in a dark corner listening to everything that occurred inside the tavern. His focus seemed to be on that of o women playing darts however it shifted as a tailed female entered the bar.

It seems my source may be right. There may be something happening here today. That tailed one most certainly is a pirate. And by the looks of it shes not here to just lounge or pillage.

He got up and moved to the bar.

"all depends on your taste. Most find it good though. May i inquire as to who you are?"

Lo'qe imerged from her Wine, and was about to respond to the new arrival, when the cloaked man drew beside them, and piped her to it.
She smiled though. "What he said Miss, though it helps if you like slightly over boiled shark."

"I see," Pierce said, smiling. "Ah well, shark is a tricky meat to cook, my old cook used to have a time with it as well!" She smiled fondly at the memory, before nodding to herself. "I think I might just get that then.

She relaxed a slight, when the male asked her name.She arched a brow. "My name is Pierce "One-Hit" Sharktooth," she replied, dipping her head. She used to follow such introductions with a fancy bow, but since retirement had slackened on that a bit. She was not a captain these days after all.

"And the two of you?" she asked. "If you don't mind, I think a conversation with the both of you might be lovely. And I'd rather not call you hey you, or matey," she added, grinning a slight.

"why Me? I am Captain Curt Alatriste" Jmbled lied as he bowed. "the reason for the hood is Im not comfortable with others knowing my face. "May i inquire what bring one as the great "one hit" here?"

((Is it okay to post now? I've already posted my profile, if I wasn't supposed to then I'll just delete it))

Cynthia sat up from laying down on the grass in a field. How long had it been? Five maybe six hours? She had taken a nap and just woken up, due to her hungry belly. She ran a hand through her hair, messy and a bit tangled. She tied a bandanna over it in hopes of keeping it down. She stood up straightened her clothes. Another day, another need for the essentials. She stepped into a nearby bar. The place seemed to be buzzing with activity. Well at least the place is lively. She saw a few people talking and sat down on an empty barstool. "Excuse me, but I'd like to have a shot of rum."

Pierce rose a brow and shrugged. To her, one should be comfortable enough with their fighting skills and experience not to worry about hiding ones face. But then, she had always enjoyed living life on the edge as well. Of course she had more than her fair share of scars as a result, but eh. Made for more stories to tell!

Although if one hid their face, why speak their name? The answer was simple, but of course Pierce let it slide. At least she had soemthing to call him after all.

"Ah, myself?" Pierce asked, then shrugged a slight. "I figured this would make a good place for lunch. These days I've retired from the old business, but that doesn't mean I can't get out a bit!" she added with a laugh.

Although she missed the seas terribly, and was finding out just why retirement was just as ugly as folks painted it out to be. She had her reasons but still, they seemed pale now.

Deciding the Kelp must be getting to her, by the time her name was ready to announce itself, the convosation had moved on.
Geeze...This stuff isn't surposed to be a depressant is it?

She surficed with listening to the others.

If these people aren't pirates, then there must be some great fancy dress party today...
Lo'qe's untrusting nature was inborn to her. While she had no doubt that at least one of them was a pirate, she found herself thinking.
If one dosen't want their face known, why should they have the curtsy to let their name be said?

Her rather blank expression didn't portray the musing going on beneeth it. Even if these people were not who they claimed, it made little difference to her. Nearly everyone she had met lied...And come to think of it, proberly thought the same of her.
What dose a name matter anyway? Unless of course it's owner wants your life hindered?
Realising now, that her name had no time in this conversation she forced it back down her throat.

At this point, she noticed another woman pull up to the bar. She turned to her and gave her, 'Smile number 22, Be friendly to strangers'.
She would need to start paying it, if the day carried on like this.

The woman smiled to Cynthia, so she smiled back as courtesy. Man, one has to wonder what goes on working at a place like this. She stretched her arms, and casually took out a small sack of gold coins. She would probably need to make some more money after this, however she'd do that. She looked at another woman talking to the bartender. "So, uh...a retiree are you? You have any sea stories worth telling?"

Lo'qe nearly choked on her current mouthful of Wine.
Wide eyed she turned back to the new company.
"Oh no, miss, i'm not retired...Actually, i'm not even a pirate. if thats what you were thinking."
She sniffed as if considering the truthfulness of this.
"Well, not by profession."

((O_O I was talking to Pierce, but this works too xD))

"Not by profession? So are you part-time?" Cynthia raised an eyebrow. It wasn't the reaction she was expecting. Most bartenders had been pirates at one point or another.

Pierce, relaxing back in her seat with her feathery tail swishing behind her, listened idly. Of course, her ears were sensitive. It was one of those traits she picked up from her siren mother. Came in handy from time to time.

Their companion... not a pirate by profession? Whatever did that mean? Sea stories though... this made her amused. She rather liked listening to sea stories and hoped others here might have some. She had quite a few herself of course, but all in good time.

Such a motley assortment here, but then wasn't that always the way in bars? And the retired pirate simply would not have it any other way.

Finally, this day had gotten a slight interesting.

{{Gosh, i'm sorry xD Sometimes it's hard to tell}}

"I guess you could say that."

Lo'qe played with the idea of how to elaborate a little.
"Well, neither I, or any of my family are pirate by...How to put it? Choice."

She took a breath. "But, five years ago, I was...Employed..." She smirked as she recalled the situation.
"...By a pirate captain."
She took a sip of the rapidly thinning wine.
"The interview went something like this...'Let me out of this 'effin sack.' 'No' 'Oh'."
Another sip.
"To cut a long story short, I grew rather accustomed to the life at sea. So much so I stayed for four years. Not that I did much pirating It has to be said."

((lol, it's fine :) ))
Cynthia raised an eyebrow and listened as she drank her rum. "Ah, I see now." She couldn't help but snicker at the interview bit. Wow that's one talkative pirate. "Well with all at sea I can see why. I've been trying to get back there, but I don't have enough for a boat. Most of the time when I was a "pirate" I just ran around picking locks for the crew." When I think about it maybe I was better off not not getting on that ship on the first place. Everyone had a lot sand trying to mess with me all the time. And I was their key too.

"Hmmm. The ladder's hard to climb." She frowned, thinking what one could be up to with all that lock picking expertise.
"Especially when people keep hacking at your legs."

She sighed. She'd been on back on land little more than a year, but she found the pull to return to the sail very strong.
"I know the feeling. I could go for a pillage right about now. Art gets dull you know."
She turned to whoever was manning the bar. "Another one my good man, please."
She opened a question to all at the bar. "Can i get anyone anything?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I think they hacked off a few inches off my growth spurt a couple years ago." Cynthia sighed. The crew was like her band of brothers that she hated..and loved. It's a wonder where they are now. Last I heard they were looking for treasure. God I hope they aren't in Davy Jones's locker yet. "Being a hobo doesn't get much excitement either. At least at raids I could break into a friend's house or something. If you don't mind I'd like a cup of your strongest tequila."

The bartender gestured to her to take over the front, while he fathamed about out back.
People these days. Can't get the staff.
Lo'qe grinned, and jumped over to the other side of the counter. "I was told i could go back any time i liked. 'Come and find us' he said. It's all well and good, but he's proberly half way around the world."

She distracted herself whilst looking for something that resembled tequila. She selected a familiar smelling liquid from the shelf, and poured some of it into a squeaky clean glass. From a small bowl behind her, she plucked a miniture wooden ship and plopped it onto the drinks surface, where it contented to sink to the bottom.
She gave it a rather flat look. "Sorry about that. I can fish it out if you like?"

Cynthia smiled "Well, that's good I guess. Even if they are far away at least you know that they'd love to have you." She watched Lo'qe get behind the counter and pour out some tequila. When the boat sank to the bottom Cynthia laughed. "It's okay. I like to get a prize at the end of my meal, but usually that's an umbrella."

Pierce watched the boat with an amused grin, listening to the stories told. Of course, anyone who had lived at sea had led an interesting life. That was what she believed anyways.

"Could you get me a Dutch 47?" Pierce asked, hoping that it would be known what sort of mix that was. So many did not know. She had found it, after all, in her travels quite far form here.

She then smiled a slight. "Good to know I ain't the only one missin' the pillages..." she added then, laughing a slight.

Cynthia wondered what a "Dutch 47" even was. She figured that it might just be a vodka mixed with some other alcohols and some fruit juice. Hmm, Dutch 47, I guess I'll have to make not of trying that sometime. "So Pierce, what kind of history did you have with them pirates?"

At the question, Pierce chuckled a slight. "Quite a bit," she admitted, turning towards Cynthia. "You see, back in the day I used to captain my own ship. Oh we sailed for years hunting down rare treasures, pillaging any ships that dared to cross us, defeating monsters... just about anything you can think of we did!" She sighed a slight.

"But, as it sometimes go, personal history had to go barging in and now I'm without crew or ship," she added, shaking her head. "Had enough to retire off of at least but retirement is quite dull, you know? Sometimes I find myself WISHING for a raid or a bar brawl to start! My poor blade Featherlight hasn't seen a fight in years!"