Chapter 9: Tilanne Shadowstorm

Arrien paced the deck of the Devil Shark, as Falrevere had taken to calling the ship, idly, watching the waves go by. It was now well into the second month of their voyage, and still very little activity besides occasional stops to hunt along the shores for food and sources of fresh water. She was quite honestly growing rather bored, as were much of the crew. Their supplies of rum were now reduced to almost nothing, some of the men having taken to fermenting their own concoctions from the tropical plants they encountered on their expeditions. Surprisingly, only about a dozen men in the fleet died from poisoning that resulted from either fruit that ended up spoiled, or fruit that was poisonous.

The week before, Arrien had attempted to contact Selessa through scrying, hoping that her former mentor was alive and well, but, alas, she had no such luck. News of the war was impossible to come by, as the ship hadn't found any other sentient beings to discuss such things with (and, of course, if said beings were found, it's unlikely they'd have time to actually give a report before they were robbed and slain). The young mage leaned against the rail of the ship and gave a heavy sigh, her eyes scanning the miles of water before her. As she looked, she spotted a dark shape floating about a hundred or so yards away, a mere silhouette in the water, tinted pink in reflection of the setting sun.

"Hey! You, up there! In the crow's nest!" Arrien shouted at the top of her lungs, something she'd become quite good at in fact, no longer the shy girl who'd started out on this boat at all, "Take a look out that way, tell me what you see."

A moment later the reply came, "Looks like a body!" Arrien headed over to Captain Belnast, who was supervising his men near the wheel, and informed him of her discovery.

"Hm," he said, "could it be possible there might be some civilized folk out this way? Of course, our luck, whomever and whatever they may be, they're probably quite dead. Nonetheless... wheelman, turn us port. Let's investigate this, maybe we can learn something of value at the very least..."

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Minutes later, the body Arrien had spotted was dragged up onto the boat, and the crew looked at it with disgust. Duke Falrevere made his presence known first with an exclamation.

"It's a bleeding elf," he sneered, bending down and turning the body over on its back. Murmurs erupted through the crew, "she's purple... dark purple... what in the blazes kind of wizardry do these elves do that'd turn em that colour?"

"She's breathing," Arrien noted, moving a bit closer. Not only was the elf a deep purple, her hair was as deep blue as the midnight sky. Over the elf's shut eyes were tattoos that looked like claw marks, a deep red in contrast to the color of her skin. Her chest rose and fell slowly, as if she was in a deep sleep. Arrien noted that her clothes were simple, mostly leather, with a few scattered runes that she didn't recognize. One of the seamen gave the elf a swift kick in the ribs.

"Wake up, you rotter," he sneered. The elf's eyes snapped open at this violent action, glowing an eerie silver in the waning sunlight. She leapt to her feet swiftly. crouched as if ready to fight, looking around at the crew, who had their hands on various weapons.

"Fandu-dath-belore?" She hissed, "bandu thoribas!" Her hand went to her back, apparently reaching for a weapon, but her face fell as she realized that she was unarmed.

"What and who the devil are you?" Falrevere sneered, "Do you speak the common tongue?"

The elf was crestfallen, she glared at the man, rubbing at her side as if she finally noticed that it was a bit sore, "That depends on who is asking, pale one," she grimaced.

"I am the one whose decision it was to haul your wretched self out of the drink, so unless you want to end up back in there with a few extra holes in you, I'd recommend answering," the Duke replied, not wanting to play games with one of the lesser species. Arrien was still quite thoroughly intrigued by the newcomer.

The elf growled, not like a humanoid imitating an animal, but like a jungle cat cornered by pursuers, "I am Tilanne Shadowstorm... I am of the Kaldorei... 'children of the stars' in your tongue. Night elves." Her voice was darkly melodic, not like the mirthful voices of the elves Arrien had grown accustomed to. "I came to be where I am because the goblin captain didn't take kindly to me stowing away on his boat."

"We're not too entirely fond of stowaways on this boat," the Duke said, stroking one of his long moustaches, "nor are many of us particularly fond of elves." Vicious grins broke out amongst the more xenophobic of the crew, and Arrien swore she could hear the unsheathing of a few daggers.

Tilanne appeared to quickly do the math in her head, trying to figure out just how outnumbered she was, and sighed, apparently resigned to her fate, "You gentlemen appear to have me at odds," she said, "if you wish, though, I can point you in the direction the goblin ship was heading. I'm sure you'll find something to do with their cargo."

Falrevere grinned broadly, "And what would you ask for in exchange, as I'm sure this is some sort of bargain for your life?"

"That's all I ask is to live... and to learn. I've never seen your kind before, and I'd like to observe," she said, tapping at her chin, "I can even be handy, if you like... I've learned quite a bit in my travels over the past," she seemed to count on her fingers quickly, "fifty or so years..."

"You're confident for someone with about twenty swords and daggers quite ready to puncture whatever vital organs you might have," Falrevere stated, "what makes you think I'm going to agree to these terms? After all, you're another mouth to feed, and, as I stated before, an elf."

"The goblins carry a cache of gold to a bank in Booty Bay," Tilanne spoke quickly now, "I heard them talking about it in the cargo hold... and they have a number of casks of rum."

"This ship is quite full, as well... should we just throw one of our crew overboard so you can have their bunk?" A few of the crew threw out suggestions of who could be tossed into the sea, and a few scuffles broke out. Blood was shed, but this was all largely ignored by the officers of the ship, and it quite amused Arrien, who finally noticed Giles, who was standing in the doorway of their cabin, arms crossed.

"She can stay in the mages' bunk," Giles piped up, "we have an empty bunk after Elanor decided to try to make it back to Dalaran on her own."

"Ah, yes," Falrevere said, glaring at Giles, "That teleportation attempt... didn't most of your scrying reveal Dalaran to be nothing more than rubble by now?" The leader of the mages remained silent. "Very well," Falrevere began again, "you may stay aboard my ship, Miss Shadowstorm... as long as this claim about the gold on the goblin ship is true." She nodded confidently, "But if you toe out of line at all... you'll be right back where you started."

"Then I really have nothing to lose, do I?" Tilanne retorted with a smirk.