Richard Baker - Corsair

“The High Captain’s fallen!” one of the pirates nearby cried out. Others took up the cry. Some of the pirates began to retreat; others hurried toward the scene to protect their fallen leader. Several rushed Geran all at once, and for a moment the swordmage was caught up in the middle of the melee again, fighting furiously. The press of the attack carried him back across the wharf again, until Sarth’s sizzling bolts of fire broke the last desperate Black Moon effort to retake their ship. Geran tried to battle his way back to Kamoth again as the Hulburgans rallied and drove the remaining pirates back to the castle gate. He caught a glimpse of several of the corsairs dragging Kamoth back toward the keep as the Black Moon gave up the battle for the dock. The wharf was littered with the dead and dying, most of them Black Moon men; he lowered his sword, panting for breath, and discovered that during the fighting he’d caught a shallow but bloody cut high on his left arm.

Hamil appeared at his side, his daggers bloody and a thin cut across his scalp. Geran hadn’t even realized that his small comrade had returned to the fray. “Mind the sharpshooters!” he said to Geran, pulling him down by a high stack of crates that offered some cover against the fire coming from the ramparts. “Kraken Queen’s compass is locked up in your cabin. Do we try to take the keep, or do we offer terms? The Black Moon men might not have much more fight left in them.”

Geran thought quickly. Mirya and Selsha were somewhere inside; if he didn’t get into the castle quickly, he’d find it barricaded against him. The Hulburgans had Kraken Queen well in hand, and they had control of the docks as well. The Black Moon leaders inside realized that too, and the gates of the keep were beginning to close against the attackers. He stood again and raised his sword over his head. “To the keep!” he shouted. He spotted Sarth near the pirate ship’s forecastle, and waved his arm at the sorcerer. “Sarth! Secure the gates!”

The tiefling glanced back and gave him a quick nod of understanding. He leaped from Kraken Queen’s deck, taking to the air as he did so. With blasts of fire and snapping arcs of lightning, he scoured the battlements overlooking the keep’s gate clear of foes then hurled a glowing orange bead through one of the arrow slits into the gatehouse. An instant later a tremendous burst of flame shot out from each of the gatehouse’s windows, and the tower shook with the force of the explosion. The gates below stopped moving. The sorcerer’s fireball had wrecked the hidden windlasses, and likely had killed the pirates furiously working them. The gates remained half open, and Shieldsworn began pouring through into the keep.

Geran looked around for any of Seadrake’s officers, and found Andurth Galehand manning one of the arbalests on the warship’s quarter rail. “Master Galehand! Keep half your sailors here and guard the ships!”

Seadrake’s sailing master scowled in disappointment. “I’ll do as ye say, Lord Geran, but only if ye promise me ye’ll save a few for me later!”

“You’re now standing on the Black Moon’s only escape from this place,” Geran called back. “Unless I miss my guess, you’ll see a fight before we’re done inside.”

“Aye, m’lord!” Galehand left his arbalest in the hands of one of the crew and began shouting orders to get his sailors in order.

Geran left the sailing master to take charge, and rushed toward the keep. Hamil followed a step behind him, while Sarth hovered in the air, systematically blasting any arrow slit from which a bolt or quarrel flew. Geran could hear the ringing of steel echoing under the walls of the pirate keep, the furious shouts and roars of men in battle, the screams of the wounded. In midstride he invoked his silversteel veil, the swirling silver aura that might save him from an unexpected thrust or a shot fired at his back. The air was thick with the reek of smoke and the strange sweet scent of the moonlet’s dark jungle. Overhead the Tears of Selune mounted to the sky like islands of shadow and silver light, drifting across a black sky ablaze with more stars than he’d ever imagined might exist. What a strange place to fight a battle! he thought. He’d fought in skirmishes on the Sea of Fallen Stars, ambushes in the shadows of Cormanthyr, and desperate frays in deep, foul dungeons where monsters lurked, but never had he fought in a battle like this.

“Follow me, warriors of Hulburg!” Geran shouted. He ran through the gates and into the moon-keep’s lower hall. At his back, armsmen and sailors charged in after him. A dozen or so of the Black Moon men tried to hold the hall against the attackers. Several crossbow bolts hissed past Geran, and one grazed his hip, catching in his leather jerkin despite his wardings. A Shieldsworn at his side stumbled and went to the ground, clutching at a quarrel in his belly-but then Geran was in among the keep’s defenders, with the rest of the attackers a step behind him. He cut down one of the crossbowmen and darted past the fellow to engage a burly half-orc mate who seemed to be leading the pirates in the hall. He traded only two passes of steel with the half-orc before a Seadrake sailor buried a boarding axe between the mate’s shoulder blades. The swordmage searched for another foe, but the keep’s lower hall belonged to the Shieldsworn-the only pirates remaining here were dead on the floor. The Hulburgans raised a ragged cheer.

“Where to now?” Hamil asked. “There must be more of these fellows skulking about in here.”

Geran studied the room for a moment. Several large passageways led away from the room, including a stair that climbed up from the gate. Like the castle of Griffonwatch that Geran had grown up in, the moon-keep was at least in part delved from the rock of its steep hill. Here at its foot, hallways led to subterranean vaults, while the stairs led up to levels and ramparts higher in the hillside. “We’ll split up and search the place,” he decided. “Master Worthel, take your warriors and ransack the lower levels. I’ll take a squad of soldiers upstairs. Look for captives, and take or kill every pirate you catch. Keep your lads together in case you run into opposition. Sergeant Xela, take your Sokols and the Marstels, and go with Sarth. I can still hear him outside. Brother Larken, keep the rest of the soldiers here and hold this gatehouse. You’re our reserve. Guard our retreat, and stand ready to help in case one of the search parties runs into strong resistance somewhere. Now go!”

The Hulburgans split up as Geran had ordered, some rushing down the passages below, others returning to the fray outside, while still others spread out to take control of the gatehouse and hold their conquest. Geran waved to the armsmen at his back and led them off into the keep. The main passage climbed a broad set of steps to a great hall, festooned with dozens of captured banners and standards. He could hear the distant ring of steel on steel from the other search parties, and shouts echoing through the stone corridors. The armsmen with him spread out to search the room; Geran headed for the first large passage leading out of the hall and peered down it, wondering just how big the keep really was. The portion built atop the hill was not very large, not much bigger than the upper bailey in Griffonwatch, but there was no telling how far the subterranean halls and vaults extended. Depending on just how long the Black Moon Brotherhood had held the keep and how industriously they’d worked, there might even be several escape tunnels hidden below, leading to secret exits in the jungles outside … possibly with smaller skyfaring vessels close by. Even now Kamoth and Sergen might be making their escape.

A call from one of the Shieldsworn interrupted his brooding. “Lord Geran?” he called. “We’ve found several people held captive here.”