Night One, 1 AM (35 Hours Remaining)
Sona found herself sitting alone in Captain Redbrand's cabin, onboard his ship, the Lonely Siren. She had to admit, the pirates had been quite gentle with her so far, under the watchful eye of Redbrand himself. Instead of being dragged onto the galleon, Redbrand had been enough of a gentleman to take her by the hand and escort her aboard, albeit with a rough, firm grip around her waist to make sure she didn't try to run away. She was then locked in his cabin, and she had been sitting on his feather bed ever since.
Outside the cabin's wooden door, she could hear boisterous laughter. The pirates were having a party of some kind, likely to celebrate their expedition at dawn. Sona frowned to herself. She had to get off of this ship, but with the pirates partying all night, there was no way she could get out of this cabin undetected, unless every single buccaneer on board decided to drink himself to death, or at least into a near-unconscious stupor.
She didn't have her etwahl to defend herself, either. Not yet, at least, it was still at Fortune's Favor. It would find its way to her in due time, but Sona realized she could be in the middle of the ocean at that point, and not even her beloved instrument could save her. With a soundless sigh, the Maven of the Strings let her face fall glumly into her hands.
The laughter from outside grew louder for a moment, as the cabin door opened, and Redbrand strode into the room. "Well, now, lass, I do hope ye've made yerself comfortable?"
Sona, of course, didn't say a word.
"A quiet one, ain't ya?" Redbrand chuckled. "Come on, don't be shy."
The captain was again met with silence.
"I'm not askin' ye to talk, I'm tellin' ye!" Redbrand's hand inched closer to his sheathed cutlass.
Sona frowned, moving a hand upwards to lightly tap her throat, hoping the pirate would get the message.
"Are ye tryin' to tell me ye can't speak?" Redbrand growled.
Sona nodded slowly. Did he think she was lying? She hoped not.
Redbrand glared at Sona for a while, then cracked a smile. "Well, that may be fer the better. Wouldn't want a wench talkin' me ear off all day!" The captain laughed heartily, clapping Sona unexpectedly on the shoulder. "Be as quiet as ye like, lass! Ye'll be safe here with me! Come on, now, give yer captain a pretty smile!"
Sona's frown, however, did NOT turn upside down.
"What's this?" Redbrand asked. "Ye do not seem happy to be here."
Sona glared, as if to say, "Of course not!"
Redbrand sat down on the bed beside Sona. "What's troublin' ye, me beauty?" he asked, reaching over to touch Sona's arm.
Sona quickly brushed his hand off, her eyes wide with indignation. She couldn't believe this pirate would be so thick as to ask that question, and that he was trying to sucker her in by being nice.
Redbrand gasped. "Don't tell me ye actually MISS those undead lunatics!?" he nearly shouted.
Sona nodded again.
"Take my gold and sink it, why would ye ever want to be seen with the likes of them?" Redbrand asked, seeming genuinely surprised. "Even a pirate is better than a corpse..."
Sona wasn't impressed by the comparison, and to prove it, she made the shape of a pistol with her hand as she put it against her head.
"Oh, aye, us takin' you hostage." Redbrand nodded. "Pirates aren't the most diplomatic of individuals, that be true. But surely they had done the same? Put some evil Harrowing spell on ye or somethin' to keep ye prisoner?"
Sona shook her head.
"And ye ain't brainwashed or nothin'?"
Another negative.
"Fascinatin'." Redbrand concluded. "Why stay with them, then?"
Sona smiled a little as she thought of her companions, and only traced a smiling face in the air for Redbrand.
"Ye actually like them?" Redbrand's tone seemed to quickly shift from curiosity to disgust, and he rose from the bed. "Bah! The undead are all alike. Mopin' on and on about death, and how we should all join them, would make the world a better place! What a crock!"
Normally, Sona would have objected, but admittedly, she had heard Karthus make that speech before, give or take. What Redbrand was saying did have some merit... but her friends weren't like that. Even Karthus was at least tolerant of her and Olaf being mortal and alive.
It didn't stop the captain's rant, however, as he drank a swig of rum from a flask on his hip and carried on. "They're a plague, I say! Year after year, the Harrowing fills us all with dread and despair! It's because we allow those festerin' Shadow Isles to exist. We should destroy the whole bleedin' place! But no, that "League of Legends" insists upon have the zombies around fer some stupid reason! Fields of Justice... champions... A bunch of malarkey!"
Sona felt the need to defend her fellow champions, but without her music, she was no match for even a drunken pirate, so she had to just quietly listen to Redbrand's inebriated speech. The more she thought of her friends, however, the more she felt an anger inside of her. She couldn't take it anymore, and she stood up from the bed. Within two or three steps, she was in front of Redbrand, and the sound of her hand slapping Redbrand across his right cheek almost seemed to reverberate through the cabin.
Redbrand was shocked into silence for a second, then his already angry face turned into nothing less than an expression of animalistic fury. "This is how ye repay me fer yer rescue, wench!?" he bellowed. "We'll see about that!" Grabbing Sona by the wrist, he opened a hatch in the floor, leading down into the ship's hold. "I offered ye a comfortable spot, but it doesn't seem ye want it. So here ye go!" Redbrand unceremoniously tossed Sona into the hold. "And stay down there!" he added, before slamming the hatch shut, leaving Sona in pitch blackness.
Sona could hear a metallic clanging above her head. Redbrand must have locked the latch shut. Wonderful. Sona felt a chill run down her spine. At first she thought it was just the cold sea air enveloping her in the damp hold, but she also knew deep down that it was because she was now scared. She was afraid she'd never see her friends again... and that she'd be stuck on this ship forever. The morning sun wasn't far away, and it was coming closer to Bilgewater with every passing second.
Illness, and family stuff, and job interviews, oh my! Life has so many little distractions, and not just nerdy gaming stuff. It's a curse. xD
Anyway, I've had to do some thinking of how to continue the story, after some recent updates to the game we know and love. Story-wise, not much has changed from my original idea for these next few chapters. But for future reference...
-I am aware of Mordekaiser's new title, the Iron Revenant. However, for the sake of continuity, I will continue to refer to him in this story as the Master of Metal. If, hypothetically, I come up with a solid enough idea to publish a sequel to The Sixth Man, his new title will be used there, as well as in any future fics I may write.
-Call me stubborn, but I like the old lore with the League of Legends and the Institute of War. It gives a reason for all the champs to know each other at least semi-well, and it serves that purpose with this story. I will continue to use the League in this story, and any other future LoL fics I create.
-There is one character in this story (not telling here, but folks who have been paying close attention may know. ;) ) whose abilities have DRASTICALLY changed as of late. I will be using the new abilities from here on out.
We're getting close to the end, folks! Hang in there, and thank you for staying loyal to our favorite metal band!