Chapter 3: Birth of the Bloodsails
Arrien felt herself slowly forming again, her stomach twisting and turning, and once again saw Selessa standing before her, looking absolutely no worse for wear. The younger mage envied her mentor at that moment, before she realized quite suddenly that the wooden floor beneath her wasn't standing still. She took a quick glance around and recalled that she had been teleported onto a boat, land coming up quickly to the bow.
"What the rottin' 'ell is this?" A sailor beside them sneered, gesturing wildly towards the pair of intruders, "a little girl an' an bleeding elf? This is a Kul Tiras warship, we've got no need for children an' pointy ears on this ship."
"Where is your captain?" Selessa spoke as if she was talking to a child, glancing around swiftly, taking in her surroundings. The dozen or so crewmembers standing around her, dressed quite neatly in the green and gold of the Kul Tiras merchant marines, were either staring at her as if they hadn't seen a woman in ages or with complete disgust, quite obviously sharing the one man's sentiment that elves didn't belong on their boat. Either way, Selessa shrugged them off and waited for a response.
"He's meeting with the Duke in his chambers... somethin' 'bout takin' us to help out Drisburg, undead invasion... Dwarf gryphon rider came an' told us 'bout it an hour ago or so. Don' really see why we're heading to help them out... rottin' bunch of Dwarves and Gnomes livin' there, anyway." The seaman spat out the racial names as if they, in and of themselves, were slurs. Almost on command, a voice came from behind Selessa.
"What is the meaning of this? Stowaways, do we have here, in my fleet?" Arrien and Selessa both turned to see two men, dressed quite richly in green with inlaid gold, standing before them. Arrien didn't recognize either of them, but she assumed the younger man with dark hair tied back in a ponytail was the captain and the more richly dressed, pompous looking old man wearing a large, red, plumed hat was the Duke.
"This girl is a survivor of the plague in Lordaeron... her parents are both dead and I wasn't sure where else to turn," Selessa explained quickly, "I only ask for safe passage for her."
"I know this woman, Lord Falrevere," Captain Belnast broke in, "she trained with my brother in Dalaran."
"Blasted pointy eared magic wielders... how do you know this girl, elf?" Duke Falrevere approached the pair, glancing at the teenager hunched over on his deck.
"She is my apprentice... very skilled in the arts of pyromancy."
"I have my own mages in my fleet," he gestured at the half dozen ships that trailed behind his own, "I don't need another juvenile one."
"I have no time to argue, sir... I am to head back to Dalaran at once to report to the Archmages so we can figure out a course of action." Falrevere scowled at her.
"I can't have another cursed mouth to feed in my crew," the noble sneered at her.
"She can have a share of my food, Lord," Belnast interjected, "I owe Lady Selessa... she saved my brother's life once, it is the least I can do. Besides, another mage might be helpful... and she could even continue her training with one of ours..." The Duke grimaced.
"Very well... she is your charge, Belnast," he stated coldly, "if she causes any trouble, I place it squarely on your head."
"You will not regret it, sirs," Selessa said shortly, bowing slightly, "And now, I must take my leave." She made a series of rapid gestures before vanishing in a deep blue haze.
"Do you have a name, whelp?" Falrevere asked, stroking at his well-trimmed beard.
"Arrien," the young mage managed, albeit rather weakly.
"Have you mastered any offensive spells, girl?"
"I can defend myself decently with the fire I wield, sir," she said, gathering herself to her feet, trying to gain as much of her composure as she could. At least, until she realized she was still in her bedclothes and the crewmembers were leering at her nubile form. She crossed her arms over her chest in a bit of a huff, her face darkening enough to slightly obscure her freckles.
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen next month, sir." She stated matter-of-factly.
The duke shrugged, "Very well... you're old enough to be considered crew. You don't have any elf in you, do you?" He asked with a dark look, peering at her ears.
"Not at all, sir... just human," she quirked a brow at this question.
"Ah, good... our alliance with the other races does puzzle me greatly sometimes..." with this statement, he turned to the captain, "She's yours to do with what you will... I trust your judgement, captain." He then headed up towards the bow of the ship, where he could see the town of Drisburg slowly taking shape, smoke plooming from many of the rooftops. He watched in disgust as tiny dots flooded the town, clearly overpowering the defenders. The captain followed behind him, leaving Arrien on her own again, a few of the crew starting to approach her, their intentions quite clear in their eyes. However, one additional member of the crew came up, placing himself in between Arrien and the others.
"Nothing to see here," he said, "as if you lads hadn't sinned enough on your last shore leave!" The man turned back towards her, and she saw that he had a kind face, not too many years older than her, "Sorry... don't know what gets into them sometimes... welcome aboard. I'm Giles, the ship's head mage."
"I... I'm sorry... so much has happened today," she started to breathe a bit unevenly, trying to catch up in her mind.
"Don't think about it too much, lass... come, let's get you some water and a bit to eat," Arrien slowly nodded in reply.
"Everyone, pay attention," the duke shouted from near the bow, "after some deliberation... I have decided that it is too risky to try to aide the people of Drisburg." A couple of crewpeople cried in protest.
"We're to leave them stranded?"
"What of the women and children?!"
"Why risk all that we have to save a few dwarves and gnomes? Why should we risk our necks for them, they've not done very much for us... blast it all, I blame this entire undead affair on the elves and their meddling with the arcane! We humans are the only ones who can even show some restraint on that front, it seems!" More shouts of protest, Arrien almost opening her mouth, but she felt Giles grab her arm, pulling her back with a whisper.
"Things are about to turn ugly... I don't want to see anything happen to you after you managed to survive." Arrien looked at the ground, realizing he was right, even if she felt that an injustice was being done, who was she to protest? She noted that the captain was behind the duke, staring quite firmly at the floor.
"Flagman, signal to the rest of the fleet that we're turning about... Drisburg can burn for all I care. The Light help the few human souls living there." Falrevere grimaced, removing his plumed hat and placing it over his heart as an apparent mark of regret, though few of the protestors bought it, Arrien was certain.
"I'll do no such thing, sir!" The flagman replied from his post, standing quite firmly, "Those people need our help, and I'll be cursed to the depths before I abandon them." At this the duke calmly walked over to the man's post, and Arrien watched as the flagman watched him approach, unblinking.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, patting the man on the shoulder before quickly drawing a curved dagger and shoving it into the flagman's chest, "may you enjoy your rest in the depths," and pushed the man overboard as he gasped for his last breath. Falrevere wiped the blood off his dagger with a handkerchief he pulled from his sleeve, glancing around the rest of the crew, as one of the other seamen raised the proper signal flags, "Anyone else?" Silence. "Very well, let's carry on then... we'll make port further south, near Menethil, to get word of the war."
Arrien turned to Giles, who was staring out at Drisburg, a grim look on his face, "Tis a shame... all those lives." Arrien simply remained silent, trying not to show the tears staining her cheeks. She dared not say anthing, having no desire to perish as the flagman did... this boat would be her new home as long as they'd have her, for better or for worse.