Chapter Twenty-Five: Between Two Rocks and a Hard Place

WARNING: there is gore in this chapter toward the end.

The sun was nearly above the horizon by the time everyone had made it onto the deck. A few sailors were already grimacing at the ships trailing behind them. The Sea Squall had been steered to sail as directly away from the pirates as possible while still aiming for Solitude, at the cost of heading straight toward a known shallow area, if what she heard was to be believed. A grumble from one of the sailors to her left about dangerous low tides was not comforting, either. Especially when paired with the sight of a wizened old nord gripping an amulet of Talos with white knuckles.

She shivered and followed his line of sight to the pirate ships. They were tiny white dots - almost invisible next to the glare from the rising sun. The floor lurched beneath her.

I want off this ship. Pronto.

She shifted back to watching Wayfinder's speech.

According to him, and in contrast with just about everyone else's expressions, everything would work out perfectly fine. The pirates were too far away to cause any trouble - almost out of sight, really - and they wouldn't be getting any closer so long as the Sea Squall was able to do the boat equivalent of putting the pedal to the metal.

He said it with much more bravado and poetic spirit than her mental summary, of course, but it was quite inefficient time-wise, in her humble opinion. The sun was completely risen by the time he finished. Evelyn rubbed her hands together to keep warm. Probably best to plan for the worst. Goodness knows that weird things have decided to start happening to me for some reason.

She shook away thoughts of what she might have been doing now if she had decided to stay in Falkreath or Whiterun.

Reading or herb gathering?

Or if she was back home where everything made sense. A glance above her to the red sky and recently-risen sun.

Maybe sleeping?

With a huff, she turned back to Wayfinder's motivational speech. None of it was lightening the sailors' moods. She tuned out the talk and reviewed her situation.

Stuck on a boat until it reaches Solitude or is caught by pirates, with a captain who insists that it will all be fine.

Who's he to say that the pirates won't catch the Sea Squall like they did the castaway's ship?

She tilted her head in thought.

But... who can say that the pirates will catch us?

If we're following the plot of the game, then those ships aren't likely to be that bad of news. Sergius was alive for the College of Winterhold quests, and Wayfinder and company were alive to lose the fancy void salts they were paid... Maybe this is where the void salts are stolen?

She heard a call from Wayfinder. Probably giving directions to the sailors.

It wouldn't make sense if this is where the salts were stolen. If I remember correctly, the quest blames it on foolish sailors, not theft on the high seas...

Another shout.

She looked up to see Sergius, the castaway, and the thalmor being escorted below deck. Was she supposed to be joining them?

Probably.

She rolled to her feet, shuffling to catch up.

Evelyn was escorted below-deck with Sergius and the Thalmor. They were led to Sergius' room and she, after a quick shrug, decided that she may as well socialize. Maybe ask Sergius a question or two, since he couldn't hide anymore.

After grabbing her bag, of course.

She caught the door just as it was closing and slipped into the room. There were barrels and hammocks everywhere, as well as a few thoroughly worn playing cards. She blinked at an ace of hearts stuck on the inside of the door - it had been impaled by a dagger.

Ignoring the castaway and thalmor, she nabbed an empty hammock between Sergius and the door. She pulled herself up completely and settled into her new perch.

Off in his corner, Sergius huffed to himself and pulled out a bottle of Black-Briar mead, leaning into his chair. He took a deep sip and sighed.

She shifted in her hammock.

"So..." All eyes were on her. She adjusted the hammock.

"Any plans on what to do while we're stuck down here?"

There was no response from any of the others.

She twitched in the hammock as the boat swayed. Then let out a long breath and leaned backward.

A quick glance around the room showed the Thalmor brooding and Sergius setting up a game of cards with the castaway. Both mages were studiously ignoring her.

Maybe I could sort through the trinkets again? Make sure that they're all there?

Another twitch as the boat rocked.

She sighed and pulled out one of the necklaces. It was either a simple silver locket that she hadn't been able to open yet, or a normal silver necklace that she would break someday in the name of science. It was inevitable. She needed to know if there was something inside of it or if it was just hollow, and so she would open it.

Someday.

She would make it off this ship.

She swallowed and picked at the rim of the necklace, forcing herself to relax into the hammock.

What would a necromancer even put in a locket? A lock of hair from a dead loved one that they want to bring back? Pick. Pick.

A poem that they want to remember? The world's smallest spell scroll? Is it something that I could use to defend myself? Her fingernail found a crease. She wiggled her finger, trying to lever the crease open. She took slow breaths. It probably isn't anything.

Pick. Pick.

But what if it is? Could it-

Her hand slipped and she dropped the necklace. Scowling, she picked it back up, staring at where she could have sworn was where the crease had been. She sighed.

There was still no visible sign of an opening mechanism.

If nothing else, I could sell the silver in the necklace to a blacksmith.

After slipping the necklace back into the bag, she reached for the flute.

Yes, I'll go talk to a blacksmith about the necklace after we get to Solitude.

xXxXxXxXxXx

There were confident shouts above them, intermittent between the thunder and winds from outside. Evelyn hoped it would last.

"They're reefing their sails! Captain, what should we do?"

Evelyn huddled further into the hammock.

"We sail on." She could hear the captain grinning over the sea spraying up around him. "The Sea Squall has dealt with worse weather before! The pirates just cut their speed - it'll give us more time. We can gain distance on them! Olgram, you need-"

The next sentence was cut off by thunder and crashing waves.

She hugged her bag of trinkets and asked whichever daedra was in charge of this madness to cut it out, she hadn't brought any cheese or string.

The others were more concerned with keeping their cards from sliding than trying to parse her mumbles.

The tones of the voices above deck grew more taught as the storm grew wilder. Gale-force winds were near-constant now. Evelyn caught a snippet of conversation and paled.

"The winds are too strong! We need to reef the sails!"

A great crash of a wave above her. The ship stopped rocking and started listing.

"Are you volunteering yourself?! I'm not going up there in this weather!"

"But what if-" Thunder shook her eardrums. The wind was blowing the ship sideways now.

"-It's too late for that!"

Then Murphy's Law finally caught up to them all.

She heard a resounding CRACK, audible over the wind and waves and thunder alike.

Then the ship sagged deeper, forcing her to hold onto the hammock for dear life as the floor went sideways. Unlike all the times beforehand, though, the ship went deeper.

It didn't roll back upward. It stayed angled, nearly sideways, as everyone in the room floundered about for a good handhold. She paled at the visible tilt of the room.

If the ship tips any further, we'll be walking on the walls.

Swallowing tightly, she stared wide-eyed and frozen as seawater came in through the closed doorway. Curses echoed in the small cabin.

It wasn't a flood, but it wasn't a mere trickle either.

She looked behind her. Sergius was pushing broken wood off of himself. A little to the left, the castaway was trying to pull himself out of a pile of sacks. The thalmor was leaning against the wall at the far end of the room, standing in a growing pool of water. The deck of cards was already soaked. She shook her head and pulled her attention back to the doorway. Water was still leaking through, but not enough to indicate sinking.

Her grip on the hammock tightened as the ship shook and lurched, but didn't right itself.

Then the boat listed even further, and shouts and another loud thump came from above. She blinked.

If the ship was going down, she wanted out. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to shout over the noise from above them with her throat as tight as it was, but adrenaline catapulted her into action. She waved Sergius down and nodded toward the trap door. The water streaming through was dark and frothy. He nodded back. As the closest one to the door, courtesy of the hammock, she'd go out first. She gathered her bag and crawled up the floor, mentally cursing as her fingers went numb in the freezing seawater.

She reached the top and, after a brief warning, opened the door. The force from a small tubful of water suddenly falling into the room dragged her back a few slippery feet, but she held on. Her fingers were freezing, her clothes were soaked, and she was shivering, but she still needed to move.

Yes. It is high time to get out of this death trap.

She dragged herself out and crouched down between the floor and hallway wall, leaning on the floor - now a wall of sorts - for balance.

Scuttling forward, she heard Sergius' curses as he pulled himself out of the room. The ship shuddered beneath her just as the castaway cleared the doorway, and she felt the ship dropping downward.

A wave crashed through the trap door opening, spraying the hallway with icy seawater and thoroughly drenching everyone all over again. She edged her way closer to the trapdoor.

There was a loud cry from the deck above her - then the boat surged upward.

Within a moment she was catapulted off the wall and onto the slick floor as the ship righted itself. More curses from behind her - the castaway had a rather vindictive mind if his comments on the parentage of various crew members were serious. She didn't know what half of the words even meant. She shook her head and focused on picking herself off the wet floor planks.

There was a brief lull, and then the ship went back to rolling with the waves.

Was it over?

Once on her feet, she braced herself inside a nearby doorway, sheltering her bag from the seawater dripping down the walls. A quick glance back to Sergius.

"What do you think happened?"

Because that noise was definitely not normal.

He didn't respond, only walked to the doorway opposite hers, hunkering down.

It was the castaway that made the next move. He leaned into the wall, exhausted, and nodded upward.

"I think the worst of it is over, but the ship has slowed, and the storm is still raging."

So... we aren't going anywhere anytime soon.

She took a shaky breath and tried to rub the feeling back into her hands.

Going topside after the storm was a solemn affair.

Though the weather was apparently better than earlier according to the sailors, the wind still nearly blew her off her feet. She was limited to scuttling low to the ground with an arm on the ship at all times. Even keeping her head down, it was easy to see what had caused the earlier issues. The main mast does tend to be one of the more noticeable aspects of a ship. At least, when it's actually there.

The Sea Squall had lost over half of its main mast, and the sail was completely gone. She glared at the ocean and dark shadow of the retreating storm. Thanks to them, the Sea Squall was a sitting duck with no legs. With sharks in the water, at that.

She looked behind them, to where the two pirate ships were sailing on. Two ships, one low and long, and the other stouter and taller. They were already close enough for her to see little figures scurrying around their decks. The piratical black flag was waving from the more well-built of the two ships. She could make out a tiny patch of white - the skull and crossbones, most likely - on it.

Captain Wayfinder's orders came by word of mouth. Every able-bodied person was to find a weapon.

Evelyn picked a broken piece of wood up from the storm debris on deck and started removing the splinters. She wanted a poky stick to threaten the pirates with.

Her stomach had dropped out from beneath her at some point, but she couldn't recall when, exactly. All she knew was that this was not what she had planned.

I was supposed to struggle through seasickness and then never get on a boat again. Finish the fetch quest with Sergius, drop the thalmor off wherever, and get back to the college where everything is comfy cozy in the tower.

She blinked. Then stared out the side toward the incoming ships.

The pirates are actually going to catch us. Wayfinder was wrong.

She swallowed shakily.

I was wrong.

She took gulping breaths, walking away from the railing. That way be pirates. She ran a hand through her hair.

Is there a way out of this?

Inhale.

There needs to be a way out of this.

Exhale. She glanced toward the rowboat.

But... I don't have any supplies and have no idea how to get to land besides 'go south.'

Another inhale.

But maybe... Maybe the pirates are going to just rob the boat? Not kill? I can hand over necromancer trinkets and whistle innocently?

A deeper breath. She looked back toward the approaching pirates. Then frowned.

I assumed that they wouldn't catch us. And look where we are now.

A shaky inhale. She snuffed out the hopeful voice in the back of her head and lifted her 'weapon.' A short, splintered stick. She narrowed her eyes at it. She needed to find something better.

Or something to coat it with. Preferably caustic.

Another glance behind the Sea Squall.

The pirate ships were taking down some of their sails, so she had a dozen minutes or so to scramble around for a weapon upgrade. Probably. She shivered. More assumptions on my part. A quick breath. She looked back at the approaching pirates. There was something weird going on with the larger ship, but she couldn't make out what the pirates were doing just yet.

Maybe I'll look again when the ship is closer?

She breathed in deeply, shaking her thoughts away to climb down below deck.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"How much longer?"

"They'll catch us by noon."

"We aren't prepared to fight off boarders! We're merchants! What does Wayfinder expect us to do? Die?"

An older man cut in.

"He expects you to do your job, now get back to it!"

xXxXxXxXxXx

Evelyn was a coward.

She acknowledged it - she was not the person to stand bravely as people ran at her with pointy things.

She was the person that got the hell away from wherever those people were.

But now there was no way to get away. Above deck would be a death trap of fighting. Below deck would be a death trap with no room to run. The mast was gone so climbing was out of question. The ocean was too cold to swim in. The rations on the Sea Squall would eventually run out - the pirate ships were the only functioning sea vessels in sight. Holing up and staying put would only keep them alive for a short while.

There were no options that were safe.

Evelyn forced herself to take a shaky breath. Then exhale.

The safest place would be...

She clenched her fists around the -pitiful- little wooden spear.

The safest place...

She froze. Then looked over at Sergius, and then Wayfinder.

Named characters.

Were they set as essential in the games?

She swallowed and looked toward Sergius.

He was standing near the back with a staff that shimmered like an oil spill. It looked dangerous. She shuffled behind the row he was in and huddle to make herself a small target, poking her head up every once in a while to see the pirates' progress.

The pirates were tiny stick figures.

Then they looked like dolls.

Then a few sailors began shooting their bows, and she heard the death cries of the first victims of the fight.

She kept her head down after that, watching as the other ship's masts towered over her. There were pirates hanging from ropes, ready to jump over. The ship was close enough for her to see little blotches of red and holes in the sails.

She slunk further away from the fighting and held her 'spear' out threateningly. Then the chaos began.

She was stuck in a limbo of disbelief as one pirate was bludgeoned to death with a club and a sailor was gutted by a shining sword. The pirates yelled while the sailors shouted battle cries.

Then there were furious shouts - even louder than before - and a pirate broke through. The sailors scrambled madly to keep the other pirates away from their ship, but left her to defend. She gulped. She was not ready.

She would never be ready.

Then she saw that the pirate was followed by the castaway.

He stopped. The castaway pointed.

Then the pirate looked straight at her, his mouth twisted into a grim fury.

And then an axe cleaved through the pirate and he was laying on the deck leaking everywhere.

She only saw out of the corner of her eye when an arrow lodged itself between the castaway's shoulderblades and he fell too. He had tried to run away.

Evelyn gagged.

She dashed away from the fighting blindly, stumbling as the ship lurched with the waves.

She reached the other side only to see the other pirate ship. It was sailing in to trap the Sea Squall on two sides.

She gasped a breath. Twisted around to see even more dead and dying bodies. Blasts of spells but there isn't enough room for clear shots. People fighting and yelling and that man has no head. A turn back to the incoming ship. She held her stick out as a threat and backed away toward the trapdoor. Maybe she could lock it behind her? But what about Sergius and the thalmor and the others? She twitched and continued backing away.

She couldn't focus on what she was hearing over the sound of her half-hysterical thoughts.

She shivered and looked at the pirate ship again. She had a minute before they were close enough to board. She could make it. The pirate ship was taller than the Sea Squall, though. They had to have seen her already-

She shuddered and took another shaky step behind her. The ship in front of her was just like she used to draw in elementary school - multiple masts, lots of rope netting, little portholes for-

Her eyes widened.

She looked closer at the ship.

She turned back toward the sounds of fighting. Everything was muffled. Like they were in another room. It made sense in the worst, most unbelievable way. The shining swords, why every single pirate was a human, why they all looked so off and yet so right to her.

"Queen Mary's Revenge" was not an Elder Scrolls name for a ship.