Redwall: War of the Four Banners

by PepperDeadSworn

"Young as autumn, old as summer, from sea to forest the cries of war shall come Four armies, one outcome, in ruin you shall find the truth Look to the place of my rest, for friend shall be foe, and foe shall be friend." A epic tale of Redwall in which four great factions battle for the fate of Mossflower itself.

15. Corsair Extraordinar

Chapter 14: Corsair Extraordinar

Morland didn't sleep well, his first night was spent comfortably in the Black Sea Plow and had not been a good one. He wasn't chained to a brig like when he first entered into Sandbeach, he wasn't on the cold rocky ground of a slave pen, nor the discomfortable barracks of his old home. He laid in a well covered part of the brig, surrounded by a large number of sleeping vermin as stared up at the dark wooden ceiling. The creak of the hare ship and snoring of vermin pirates was only a muffle compared to the uncomfortable musings of his new master, as Tarlo Green Eyes rested uncomfortably in his cot, constantly swinging around. He wasn't use to sleeping with the soldiers, and didn't mind it at first, up until the cat could barely find rest as he would awake and untie himself from a simple yawning. Most of the vermin in the crew quarter came from all manner of backgrounds, pirates and murderers all, but all were sea creatures who lived and breathed the open ocean and the life of a sea raider.

The former marine couldn't help but think in his cot, sleepless and distant. He thought of his father showing him how to fish, how he bravely wished to join Green Isle's marine corp. He admired his grandpa who had told him tales of their clan's history, the bravery of free otters battling against the tide of wild cat tyranny. Yet here he was, it was less than a day and few unkind words, several exhaustive hours and lashes, and he immediately broke. He thought of all the otters, his people and clansbeasts, all trapped in a place he could only describe as hell. A distant and far away place, where all hope was sunk beneath the green flag of an ancient and long thought dead dynasty. He wondered if his grandparents could see him from beyond the dark forest. The thought made him terrified.

He wondered what his commander would have said to him if he could see him now, he wondered what his parents would do if they ever found out how much cowardice their son had. He had made his choice, and now lived with it both mentally and physically. The branding scar on his cheek still pained him whenever he moved any part of his mouth, and he could not hide it as much as he wished to. A flood of thoughts poured on into him. He could sit up and take out a knife from one of the corsairs, slash it across Tarlo's throat and avenge a lot of dead and tortured otters. He could save face, go on some wild quest to escape the ship and hunt for Minto. It was like a tale in his father's story.

Yet here he sat, in utter dejected silence. He had accepted his place, sold his soul, and now lived solely at the behest of a very uncomfortable cat who couldn't sleep himself. He lived in a strange limbo, both wishing for death but to not die. He wanted his run of brutal misery to end, the pain his back and cheek from his few days of slavery to be gone, and to retire to some place back home. That chance was gone, leaving only him grounded to a vermin vessel. He finally closed his eyes, accepting his fate as went fast asleep.
_

Tarlo could barely sleep, he wasn't used to sleeping in a common crew quarter, and when Sagan told him that there was no room in his cabin for him, he had eagerly agreed to put aside limitations as a prince to sleep amongst the common pirates and sea scum. Secretly however, he couldn't help wince and complain the entire time, and it was mostly to himself. He spent hours trying to get into a cot, and would often wake up to realize just how uncomfortable he was. He missed his own cabin, the snoring vermin constantly awoke him, and he felt too awkward to light a candle light to read. He hated to admit it, but Tarlo simply hated being rude to others, especially as they slept. It was a nervous tick he picked up with his wife back home on Sandbeach, and continued when his father gave him some servants to keep him and his wife well tended. When finally did get comfy, he awoke to a surprise to see the entire crew quarter empty, and the shine of light peeping through the ship's windows. Even his new personal servant was gone, with every cot within the quarter empty.

Tarlo looked around and began putting on his garb and armor. Taking his trident which laid next to him, he brushed his paw over an old book he had been reading recently. It was a western novel, a book of ancient history of the cats of the west, of their cities. Tarlo had never been to the western shores, but his mother told him it was an evil place to live in, where her family fled from. He was yet interested regardless. He packed the book into his belongings and looked around, the sweet air of ocean salt mixed in with the terrible odor of unwashed sea scum assaulting his nose.

Going up on the deck for fresh air, Tarlo looked around to see Sagan's vermin were out and about, tying knots and playing small games. There were only three creatures on deck who were being overly diligent; Sagan who was happily humming a sea shanty to himself as he spun the ship's wheel above Tarlo, and his two servants who were busily tying ship knots or redoing them to their own purpose. Grof Burker, the sea rat captain and marine in Tarlo's employ, looked up to his master. "Mornin, my lord."

"Ah, there you two are. Morland, did I not tell you to have my breakfast ready when I awake? I do hope my speech to you on your duties did not fall on deaf ears."

Morland sighed "I am sorry, sir. I didn't wish to awake you. I'll do so now." Morland looked a bit more broken then usual, and meandered down into the crew quarter with Grof a bit annoyed that he did without finishing the rope. Tarlo looked on, looking a bit disappointed and sad.

"I just don't understand Grof. Back on Sandbeach, my servants grow happy to see me and are quick in their step to serve. You'd think such beasts would shed their pride of their freedom once they served cats as mum would always say. Yet this is honestly the first time I have one to attend me. . .which well, isn't you. How is my new servant by the way?"

"Well, ya chose fairly at least, Tarlo." Grof sighed, being honest with his lord "I got to him talkin a bit while we were getting ready for our first night on the ship. Fellow marine he is, but a young un compared to even me best rats. Ya chose a warrior, an' he won't be handlin all yer talk of 'superiority' well."

"It is more than talk, Grof. It's the truth."

Grof also had known better from his long years in Tarlo's service that arguing with him was pointless. He was well read, well educated, and a good speaker when he put his mind to it. However, the shroud of reality always eluded him. He may have adventures across worlds to find new cats to bring to Sandbeach, extolling the virtues of his father's coming crusade, and the majesty of his family, but he may have just as well stepped out of the shadow of silver curtains of Sandbeach's palace for the first time. Tarlo maneuvered around the ship of busy pirates who cared not for what he was, trying to reach Sagan and keeping away from dirt. If it was his own ship, he would order it scrubbed from top to bottom.

"Ah. Sagan Black." Tarlo reached the top of the captain's bridge. "I wished to speak to you."

Sagan's blissful smile as the sea winds hit his face turned to a frown, looking at Tarlo, the cat still trying to dust himself off "I'd prefer to ask, and not demand too much, but perhaps you could find me better quarters. A warrior of my caliber does need some proper rest for not only myself, but my servants."

Sagan practically choked out his breakfast and laughed "Proper quarters fer yerself an' servants, matey? If I were wise, an not known this be yer first day on me ship, i'd have ya flogged for insubordination an'' lollygaggin!"

Tarlo widened his eyes with surprise "Excuse me?"

"Yer on me ship an' I am captain. Any beast on me ship, free or ransom, cat or rat, works fer their meal an' der right to be on me ship at all. We be headin to Barbo's isle, an if we have any real chance on huntin the likes of a badger lord and the Mountain of the Sea, we will need his expertise."

"I am a prince of-"

"Yer sea scum on me ship, like me and all yer companions. Yer father hired me to bring ya on this journey, but this be how I work. Yer companions down there be helpin out all an' well, so ya can help in return me good Tarlo Greeneyes."
_

Morland came out back on deck with an ornate plate of dried and salted fish meat which Tarlo had packed before leaving. It was one of his favorite traveling meals, and Morland could understand why. It smelled and looked very good, but he was 'forbidden' to eat it. Morland was quite hungry himself, but out of disgust for himself, he refused to try to take a bite out of it. He came back out on deck, expecting a fairly normal voyage to some desert isle of the infamous Captain Barbo Senger. The name drove fear down the otter's spine, the cursed bane of Green Isle, the terror of the seas, and kidnapper of hundreds of good beasts. His tales of woe and barbaric heroics was known even to him, but as he ascended to the top of the deck, he could not but be shocked. He wasn't surprised, but still shocked.

Tarlo was being carried down from the captain's bridge, screaming and yelling with Grof being held at knife point by one of the crew members. Tarlo was disarmed by several of the sea scum as he screamed and kicked "You traitor, wretched sea scum traitors! When my father hears of this, he will have you flogged! Nay, worse than flogged! Grof, deal with these pests, please! They disarmed me! They disarmed me!" Tarlo was smacked over the head by his captor, a one eyed rat with a black patch over his gouged out eye, with a belt full of knives. "Cap'n says ya be actin like a new born pup demandin sweets. not on dis ship ya won't! Yer goin to cool off in de prisoner hold ya over groomed ninny! Ya asked fer a private quarter, well der it be!"

Grof was being transported down as well, but resisted far less, leaving Morland with an ornate plate of treats. Sagan came down, nursing his jaw which had been punched by Tarlo. He took up the treat and gulped it down and then took the plate, examining it. "Bah, I got a bet'r one. Ya goin to resist, slave beast?"

Morland pursed his lips and shook his head. Sagan looked him over and thought "Well, yer chief be needin to cool off it seems, ya a marine from Green Isle, eh?"

"Aye."

"Heh. Welcome. . temporarily to me crew, otter. Grab a mop an' start scrubbin. If ya resist, we'll just throw ya overboard."
_

Tarlo was dragged through the crew quarter while Grof was walked, and was thrown into what was, essentially, a small closet where cleaning buckets and miscellaneous supplies were held. In his full garb and armor, it was quite humiliating to brush up in the storage area of a crew quarter closet, with his servant Grof being thrown in shortly thereafter. The rat who had thrown him in locked the door behind him and gleefully called out from behind "Cap'n says ya are to cool off, an will return in due course to give ya yer just deserts, yer highness! Get comfy in yer private cabin, ya lucky landlubber!"

Tarlo collected himself, barely able to move. He looked around, trying to find a means of swift escape and he spoke to Grof who sat in a corner, trying to get comfy himself. He was annoyed that his companion was not taking this premature capture very seriously.

"Come Grof, help me find something to pick this old lock. We will have to make for the lifeboat and fight through these wretched pirates."

"Nay." Grof laid back "I think yer takin this whole thing a bit too on the nose, Tarlo."

"Whatever do you mean! We are now on an enemy ship as far as I see it, kidnapped and thrown into a makeshift jail. Perhaps he intends to give me to this Barbo, a gift between pirate to pirate. Wits alone will not save us from that exchange."

Grof grunted "I heard ya gave the captain a decent speech, but I don't think he bought it. That is how that one weasel draggin me down here said."

Tarlo did admit that it was a decent speech, but didn't understand why it was appropriate, a flashback rolled into his mind as he tried to explain to Sagan that as a higher creature then him, he was afforded a luxury which he deserved. Tarlo saw himself as humble, far more willing then the likes of his family to humbly introduce himself and care for the lesser vermin and even the slaves. He hoped that his new gift, Morland, was safe, but hope alone was ill advised when it came to vermin sea scum like Sagan. The thought occurred to him that he was likely being turned into 'fish bait', a premature and cruel execution of being torn apart with sabre and the resulting gore being thrown overboard. If that was the case, I am sorry good Morland, and I swear to at least avenge your death and treat my next servant with more caution.

The conversation however had turned sour. Sagan insulted him, and then insulted his wife, and it made Tarlo flinch instinctively. He didn't particularly mean to hit the fox in the mouth, but he did. Sagan had him looked down here to 'cool off', but he didn't trust such phrasing.

"I suppose he didn't. Now stop moping and help me, Grof!"

Grof obeyed, but he lazily took to his task. The room had nothing in it that could them. They tried to use an old broom to bash the door open, but it just splintered into pieces. Hours passed before the two fumbling companions gave in and slumped down in defeat.
_

Tarlo slumped over from exhaustion from his many failed plots and attempts to break out of a simple closet. He tried everything from trying to use his weight to smash through the wooden door, to having Grof do it, and then having them use their last bit of strength to do it. They tried all manner of intriguing attempts, but Tarlo admitted he wasn't very creative with the tools available. They agreed they would try again, once their strength returned, with Grof pointed out he heard a jingle which sounded like the latch of the door was being damaged. As the two were regaining their strength, the voice of Sagan spoke slyly from the other side of the door.

"Ya done in there, resisten me or ya goin to continue actin like a bunch of immature pups who just got der favorite toys taken away!"

Tarlo called out, huffing "I am a son of Milo Greeneyes, Lord of all Vermin, Master of all Slaves! You will pay for this indignity with your lives once I get free!"

"The son of the Lord of All Vermin and Master of all Slaves be locked an' trapped in a closet, ya flea brained idiot. Now if ya ain't calm, ya don't eat tonight. Maybe an actual binge of starvation will make ya see some kind of reason, Tarlo."

Tarlo called on back "Stuff your food in your own bowl, fox! Greeneyes do not break!"

Sagan was standing in front of the door, flanked by his favorite 1st mate, the stout Brea who remained firmly at his side. She would sway over to the door and dramatically pound on it, calling out in a booming voice at their trapped passengers "Ya should have just obeyed th cap'n while ya got yer chance, me hearties! At least yer otter had some sense in em!"

Tarlo called out "Oh? He is alive?"

Sagan rolled his eyes and called back "Aye, an does a lot better job den ya have done since bein on me ship. Yer gull is gettin lonely as it circles about and I will down it if he attacks me crew. Fer the both our sakes, I'd prefer ya stop actin like the fool an' calm yerselves."

Brea whispered to Sagan, a bit annoyed, playing with her large hoop earrings. "I don't get it Sagan, if dis had been any udder beast, we'd have made em' walk the plank with rocks tied to der feet. Why spare this lot at all, we don't really need em. We could even tell our new 'employer' he died bravely fighten a badger."

"Nay, not be worth the time. Despite how he be actin now, ya should have seen him in der throne room. An interestin lad, with an interestin family. Besides, I think he got some heart in em yet. Be patient me love."

Brea gave a wide smile with Tarlo calling out "Calm down? You are the one who imprisoned me!"

"Aye, cat! Ya hit yer cap'n" Brea called out. Tarlo attempted to remind the newer creature on the other side with an annoyed voice "I am a prince of Sandbeach, and of the Greeneyed Horde. I am more then your guest, but your boss!"

"Yer me guest, but not our boss, cat. I told ya already I hoped ya would be a humble beast, unless ya really are like yer brother, eh?"

There was a silence, a long silence in the room. A voice peaked up from it, as if saddened and humiliated. Tarlo hated to say it, but the fox had been right. He was acting more like his brother in this situation, perhaps more calmer, but still far too much like the despised and disappointed son of Milo, and not the shining star he was. Swallowing his pride he piped up "You are right, Tarlo, but I am still a superior beast still, but I have acted a bit the fool. What will you have of me and Grof?"

"Well, when I unlock dis door, ya will join me crew for a nice dinner, eh? First an' foremost. Den, once ya meet me crew an' proper, then we'll go from there. Our journey be a bit of a long one, matey, an' ya need to be apart of the ship, or off of it."

Grof practically begged his prince "Just swallow your pride for a few days an' agree. I'd prefer to see Sandbeach again, me lord."

Tarlo called out and gave a deep and depressed sigh "As you command, Captain Sagan."
_

Tarlo and Grof collapsed out of the closet at the feet of Sagan and Brea, and as a show of good will, Sagan helped Tarlo to his feet. Grof got up on his own terms, with Sagan patting his guest's back with Brea and Grof keeping behind. Sagan showed them to a section of the ship where hares used to eat, a common trait of most Salamanderston ships were their large kitchens and eating quarters. The entire crew was there, having gathered for dinner, all of the pirates eating what Tarlo could only describe as one of the most decadent meals he had ever seen in his life. The pirates were a mix of many kinds of vermin, from all parts of a larger world, drinking different grogs, wines, ales, and rum from stolen vessels from all parts of a world he had never seen. They ate various dried foods, a mixture of fruits and veggies. One pirate was gnawing down on a potato, another was sniffing and eating a bird's leg, with all manner of deserts which would have even made his own cooks blush. Sagan did not give back his weapons, and forced him with his paw to sit at the table next to one vermin who was gnawing on a strange vegetable with yellow kernels.

Morland came out of the pirate kitchen with another creature. He was a brownish weasel with a white belly, but he wore a fine black and green tunic with a clean belt, wearing a pair of glasses and speaking in an accent he had never heard before "Jah! Sagan, ze best beast of the big black house em'self! I see ze be draggin a big cat around, me freund!"

The weasel brought a big pot of lobster to his boss, steaming and monstrous in size. The fox smelled it and was impressed, and called out "As always, Klaus, yer cookin could sink me stomach into a abyss, matey!"

"Jah! I zank ye fer the help." Klaus gave a friendly pat on the back to Morland. He was happy to see Tarlo wasn't dead or worse, as he had spent much of his exhausting day working on the pirate ship. The pirates certainly appreciated his help, and when asked to help out with the evening feast, he reluctantly obeyed. Meeting Klaus, Morland could not believe and refused to believe how friendly and jolly the weasel had been to him. He acted more like a woodlander than a vermin, and it showed how eager he was to aid Morland and thank him for his service.

Only Grof knew what Klaus was, and crept back as the weasel approached and presented him with a feast. Klaus came from a kingdom of weasels on the northern continent, a land of deep and untouched forests and great keeps. It was one of many kingdoms, filled with warring princes. The friendly demeanor was a mirage to Grof who had heard tales of his land, which acted like any other vermin kingdom with a coat of black and white paint surrounded by stone walls. Grof however decided to not tell the slightly happier Morland that what the vermin did to non-weasels in that land would have made his skin crawl.

Tarlo began to eat from his meal slowly and with his royal manners, as Sagan ate greedily in comparison alongside the stout first mate who kept close to him. The two brought their muzzles close together, granting onto them a short kiss much to Grof and Tarlo's intrigue and curiosity. Brea licked the snout of Sagan as she whispered something into his ear with the fox giving a jolt to the suggestion. "Maybe later me, dear."

Grof whispered to his boss a rather sordid word "Bah. I knew we came aboard a ship of degenerates."

"You. . .don't think they are like, you know, real 'mates'?"

"Me ma would act the same way to me pa."

Tarlo didn't even wish to think about it, but the entire idea intrigued him deeply. Sagan spoke to his crew, who stopped eating to hear him better. "Me maties, as ya all know, we will be headin to our ol' rival's isle. Barbo be within our sights, but we cannot be hasty in slackin in our duties. As ya know, we need our ship to be spiffy an' clean before we even dock in Barbo's port, an I want each an' every one of ya to keep a good witness to yer weapons an' gear. Ya all know what he can be like."

"Cap'n, may I ask somethin?" One of the crew called out "Why we workin fer these landlubbers anyway? Can' we not raid der southern coast fer Southward ships?"

"Nay, not this time. The prize we get from our temporary employment be too grand. I know many of ya whisper that yer captain be sounden soft for agreein to such dumb an' fool terms. Taken a good deal of guests, but as ya know, we all earn out keep on dis ship." He turned his attention to Tarlo "All of us."

"Ya will start from the bottom an' go up at me leisure, cat. Tis be my crew, an' me ship. I think ya got some heart in ya, an interestin heart to be sure, Tarlo me Matey. Like all vermin on me ship, dey earn der place as the sea raiders dey be born to be. Klaus an' ey had been buildin up our little adventure fer many years, an we all started at der bottom somewhere. I wish to hear no complainin, an' fer yer ignorance I will grant ye the mercy ya deserve. Ya won't be lashed, but do so again an' I won't hesitate to make ya suffer for it."

Tarlo kept quiet and bowed his head. Sagan however burst out laughing which made him stand to attention "What are ya doin, ya ill brained fur scrubber? Ya be bowin yer head like a servin beast! Ya be part of me crew on dis ship, not me ransom beast! Get this cat some ale, will ya Brea?"

Brea came over and gave them some ale as Sagan continued to speak. His vermin continued to munch and speak amongst themselves, some singing sea shanties and playing cards. Tarlo was no use to such treatment. He had known of the strict impose of court life on Sandbeach, his brother's abuse and consequences of it, and of the open waters. He was far too used to commanding others, and yet here Sagan was acting as both warden and friend at a mere instant. The fox would give a friendly cheer to his new found crew mate, much that Tarlo knew he was effectively a prisoner on a pirate ship.

---

Tarlo had gone to sleep a bit more peacefully after an evening of rambunctious drinking and singing. The hum of a sea shanty the pirates sang rang through his head, and he found himself sleeping with similar discomfort back on his cot. What changed was when he was rudely awoken up personally by Sagan, the fox captain throwing him practically off the cot of his bed. Landing on all fours, he stared up in shock, skipping the entire process of slowly opening his eyes and regretting being awake and wishing to return to bed. Sagan looked rather unhappy as he yelled loudly at the cat in a mocking and pseudo-furious voice. "Wake up ya mangy cur! Ya skipped breakfast, an now ya be layin down like a babe in a crib! Time to get to work, an I will not be takin any excuses."

Tarlo yawned and allowed himself to be guided towards the deck, but soon quickly came to complain "Mind if I at least put on my decent clothes, my armor and gather my-"

"Nay, yer to start immediately. What ya got on suits ya well enough." It naturally of course didn't, it was little more than a makeshift and comfy nightgown. Tarlo continued "Mind if I at least eat first?"

"Ya can eat durin lunch an a break."

"Can I be at least attended to? Where are my servants?"

"Fer the journey we takin, consider them yer equals on me ship, an' even yer superiors."

Tarlo stopped and looked at him, insulted "Superiors? Equals?"

"Aye. Yer companions are clearly both decent sea beasts. The rat is already dealin with some old tears in our sails, an yer otter servant be quick to scrubbin an' organizin."

"They are mine to command by right of-"

"They be mine on dis ship, an so are ya. Now." Sagan took up a old mop and handed the wild cat his new tool for his tasks "Time to learn how to use me favorite tool fer new sea scum. I call her The Hare's Hair. Take care of her well, or I'll smack yer back with it till it bleeds."

Tarlo reluctantly took it into his paws and entered onto the deck. The crew was busy as always, and for several good reasons. Despite their diligence, the ship was old and needed repairs, but Sagan was always on the move and always liked pushing his ship to the limit. The ship continued to pull forward. Tarlo put the mop to the floor of the ship, and realized something he seemed too embarrassed to ask about. He had no clue how to mop a deck, let alone understood why. Tarlo pouted as he put the mop to the floor of the deck, trying to sweep it around without water. Grof and Morland were nearby, who were taking their experience as sea beasts to help out around the ship in various ways. The two were rolling a barrel from one end of the ship to the other, helping the weasel Klaus as he was looking over the edge of the ship at a small hole he wanted to fix. Morland didn't particularly understand why Grof gave the friendly foreign weasel a wide berth, and didn't bother to ask as they rolled a barrel of makeshift nails and tools. He cringed how the pirates would even keep most of their carpentry supplies inside barrels, a thought he shared with Grof.

"They are pirates, youngsters to the likes of any true sailor an' sea beast out there. Lazy dolts the lot of them." Grof whispered, conscious as he eyed Sagan on top of the captain's bridge.

Grof noticed Tarlo was struggling to understand even basic maneuvers, which didn't particularly surprise him. Tarlo was more used to being captain of a ship, a sentence in Grof's mind which even then was only half true. It was more accurate to say Tarlo was more of a guest on a ship he would captain. He may have gone on many adventures, but Tarlo had to be guided by him. Grof looked to Morland and nudged him "I'll put this barrel down there, ya go an' teach our dear lord an' master how to actually use that thing."

Morland looked on and gave a light frown "He doesn't know how to use a mop? How?"

"Hes a wild cat, he has beasts like you to do that kind of thing. Now go help him before Sagan decides to throw all of us off a ship or causes a scene."

Morland reluctantly came over to Tarlo as Grof went below and began to nudge the barrel of supplies down into the basement, complaining that the pirates should have used a box like any other normal creature. Tarlo complained to Morland openly "I do not understand, this is tedious! Does he expect me to 'mop' this entire deck of the ship?"

"Yes, sir" Morland looked for a bucket of clean water, and saw he hadn't found one. Sighing, Morland took the mop and showed Tarlo where to find a fresh bucket of water. "Clean decks are important for ships. My commander once told me that an unclean deck was more than an inconvenience to those who worked it. Sea water can do a lot of damage, believe it or not."

"This deck looks fairly clean as it is."

"It never truly is. Swabbin the deck be apart of any ship, sir. Here, let me show ya." Morland took the mop and began to clean. Sagan, on his command deck was looking down and looked fairly disappointed. He had every mind to stop such nonsense, but cheered up a bit when Tarlo copied what the otter had done. Once in the movement of things, Tarlo was practically whirling around the deck, mastering his task with good efficiency. Ha! I knew he had a diligent heart in em' yet.
_

Once Tarlo was done with his first tasks, he began to learn all manner of other things on the ship. Grof helped him tie his first knot, got to know the names of Sagan and his crew, unfurl sails, climb ropes, and even took to studying how to navigate. Grof had his doubts about Sagan, but he was surprised to see his lord's curiosity bloomed as he went about his tasks. If anything else, Tarlo enjoyed learning new things, and Grof could only guess Sagan was enjoying Tarlo's company more and more as he watched the cat go about the day on deck. Sagan himself had been happy, his guess of Tarlo's nature had been right. With a little push and prod, the wild cat put aside his pride to be helpful upon his ship. Sagan always found interesting creatures to be worth his time; foreign vermin, sea raiders from other ships, degenerates and clever beasts. Tarlo was one such beast, a wild cat prince who sought a humble and loyal life. If he wasn't chained to the invisible shackles of Sandbeach, this mangy cur would make a decent pirate I bets.

Still, the thought of adding a new crew mate from some far flung royalty paled in comparison to the true prize on his mind. The Mountain of the Sea was a ship he wanted more than anything else, a final steal for a career such as his. As the day went on, Tarlo sat exhausted with the chores of the ship finally running dry, with the pirates breaking out some grog to enjoy their evening. One of the pirates, Peg, broke out with a old lute, damaged from years of abuse at the hands of the vermin and oversized. It was more fit for a hare, but since its owner was long dead, Peg wheeled it and began singing a sea shanty which the entire ship sang to.

"Free to be on the open sea, born to ride the waves me hearties!

Listen to a tale das true, when der seas were black an' blue

When ships had no sails, an beasts traveled in rafts on the gale

Twas a rat named Bulrock, who build a ship from yonder logs

He paddled his ship out to sea, to find a wife for ye!

Ol' Bulrock found himself in storm an' thunder, an filled with frightened glee

Fled into the waters, an in the abyss he could see, a graveyard in the sea

Ships lined from end to end, on the edge of a abyss sunken inland

He dived down, barely knowin how to swim, swam back up wit gold

And jewels to make all beasts cry, he shouted 'I found me wife in the gleam

Of me eye!'

Bulrock became the first raider o' the sea, a pirate we descend from from each

We live to thee, but as just Bulrock died to make us rich an' happy,

He drowned fightin to join his treasure at the bottom of the seas!"

The vermin pirates clapped and sang along. Neither of the higher beasts like Tarlo or Grof joined in, and especially not the otter Morland. However, Tarlo could help but smile and laugh at the antics of his new found companions. Klaus however was singing a more nuanced song to himself in a language which only he and Grof could understand. Sagan eventually joined in, with a popular story.

Sagan handed off his steering wheel to his first mate, and joined the vermin on deck. The evening sun was setting as he sat next to Tarlo, sharing some wine with the cat. Tarlo looked much happier since yesterday, but couldn't help ask a more important question of the pirate captain "Your crew is quite jolly, vicious, and ready for action. They seem so loyal and happy, a lot more happier then vermin I see on Sandbeach. Yet they live as nomads on the open sea."

"Aye, an' it not a big secret. Gashan's pirates be a miserable lot, if ya have seen em'."

"I have. They slink to my father like disobedient slaves, sometimes my father treats them as such. When you walked into my father's presence, you showed no fear at all. How?"

"I fear no creature, Tarlo. Not you, yer father, or the sea itself. I lived a fulfilling life, ya see, one which der is no secret in. I live as a free beast, with no expectations on me mind, free to raid an' plunder the open oceans to me hearts content. I made me choice long ago to do so, an' payed a terrible price fer it. Gashan sold his soul to yer father, ya know, he lives in a great stone fortress wit others I'd call peers, but wether ya know it or not, all live on leashes tied between yer father's paws."

Tarlo sighed at the comment "Would it not be so bad? My family built Sandbeach, it is a great city and filled with a great horde. We are rich beyond our own belief, and ready to take our rightful place."

"Ya be daft if ya believe that, me hearty."

"Daft?"

"Ya are rich, sure, but ye live off the backs of others. Wether it be yer own cats, the vermin ya steal from Mossflower, or the slaves ya chain to yer jobs, yer family lives on the edge of a knife. I've seen such things before lad, tyranny never ends well fer ya lot. Ya would be happier an' freer den any other beast if ya gave up on any ambition and joined a good crew like mine, on the open sea."

"I am honored, Sagan Black. Yet I must decline." Tarlo looked away, drinking the stolen wine with a meaningful sip "I have responsibilities, not only to my father, but to my family. My family's birthright was stolen from us, and it is my duty to aid in the righteous cause to reclaim our lost lands and build a new kingdom for my family. Our people. Mother honestly would prefer we just had Green Isle, but father wants me to reign in a place called Mossflower. Have you ever been to it."

"Aye, I have." Sagan took his own sip of his drink. "What do ya know, what happened in Mossflower. To yer ancestors."

"Not much, to be honest. I read that our ancestor, King Mortspear, ruled a great kingdom in the far north which he took for himself and it fell into ruin. His sons Trunn and Verdauga travelled southward and built mighty kingdoms for themselves, but were usurped unjustly by their lesser servants. It is my family's sacred duty to recover those lands for those we lost."

Sagan gave him an odd look "Kingdoms, eh?"

"Yes. What, is something the matter?"

"If I remember me ma's stories well, did not Verdauga build his kingdom? Trunn an' his blue horde was destroyed."

"No. Of course not. We have books and scriptures. I don't have books on me, but my father's library is filled to the brim with my family's history. The line of Mortspear ended in tragedy, and despite the kindness the King of Mossflower showed upon his servants, he was still destroyed for it along with his whole family. Trunn built a great fortress into the mountains, conquered by the badgers and their hare minions. The tale is quite universal. I'll show you it when we return to Sandbeach."

"Me lad, the badgers never lost the mountain."

"Says who? The enemy of my family? Think of it, Sagan, I know you are intelligent. How can my family, born to rule lesser beasts, ever lose a mountain if not via trickery and numbers. No, my family was betrayed. My family does not lie, we do not cheat, and certainly do not scheme against one another. My brother and I may have our differences, but my father made well sure we would never bring harm to one another. It is our duty, our honor, to conquer and rule Mossflower."

Sagan never really thought of it before like this, but yet he couldn't help but think something was wrong. Tarlo was set like a mountain in his beliefs, he had read it and repeated it in his head. "Either way, Tarlo, as I suspect, ya take well to doin work. Yer first day actually doin work seems to have gotten ya a bit motivated."

"I resent that. I work well you know. I can do more than just slavish tasks, as it distracts me from my true skills." He may have sounded resentful in words, but Tarlo spoke with a sarcastic friendliness "I am a warrior first and foremost. I'd love to show you, captain Sagan Black what a prince of the Greeneyes could really do."

"Ya will get yet chance, me hearty. However, I cannot promise ya it will be a bloodless trip. All the crew must be well prepared fer the fight with the Mountain of the Sea. Now, do be ready to relax an' enjoy ol' pirate tunes in true an' blissful freedom of the open oceans." Tarlo sat and relaxed for the first time he came on the ship, enjoying the unique atmosphere. He wondered if the pirate they were going to recruit was just as colorful.

---

It had been several days, with Tarlo having gotten used to helping out aboard the ship, and was more comfortable with his tasks. However, today had been a bit different as they neared a desert island far off into the distance, with a hillside dune with some palm trees swaying in the far off distance. Tarlo and Sagan watch from the captain's bridge, with Tarlo looking out beyond at the appearing settlement. Tarlo wasn't fully nervous, but the pirate crew had purposefully kept their noses low and their mouths shut when it came to speaking of Barbo. Tarlo had tried to ask Sagan several times in their free and relaxing time about him, but Sagan could only give very warped answers. As they neared, Sagan spoke up, as if embarrassed.

"Now me matey, der be a few things ya gotta know about me. . .'friend'. Barbo Senger is not by nature aggressive nor degenerate, an' he speaks like an angel an' gentle beast. However, he can be, ehhhhhh, dramatic."

"You had mentioned he is a legendary corsair. He cannot be terrible if he is gentle, right?"

"Depends on who you ask, tis better to be explainin what he is when ya meet him. Tis hard fer a beast like me to explain Barbo Senger, Corsair an' terror of the far seas. He and I go way back, we fought each other fer shippin lanes an' even adventurers. He an' his wife be both kind an' cruel, an' has little to no respect fer the common vermin. So when ya meet him, don't try to be offended by his. . .oddities." Sagan couldn't help but pause, having no real words to describe his old rival.

"I hear my father hunts for his ships. You think he will side with us?"

"Nay, but we are here to recruit him. His expertise is important to us. It is also not him who commands his vessel anymore. Tis be his daughter. He is 'retired' as one can be."

"Retired?"

"Aye. He didn't become the 'Terror of Green Isle' for no particular reason. He kidnapped many from der ships an' vessels, even raided der coast many o' times. He had many good stories in dat regard. He built himself a grand ol' palace fer himself an' his daughter to live out his elder days in luxury, of course built an' maintained by his captives, his old crew, an'. . an' his army of lizards."

"Lizards?" Tarlo sounded more and more intrigued. Sagan pursed his lips and could never get use to saying those words.

"Aye. Lizards. Like I said, tis better to see then to say."

The Black Sea Plow moved ever forward towards the docks, with Tarlo gripping onto his trident. His curiosity remained, but he also remained anxious.
_

Barbo's Island had no real name, although it was called many things by its inhabitants. To the stouts who ruled over it and the crew who followed them to the ends of the earth, they simply called it Home. To the lizards who ran the day to day operations of the island, living with their tribal families in the sand beaches of their native isle. They called it Ulzan, a term which was meaningful in their own language. To the captive otter and other woodlanders of the isle, stolen from ships and raids in Barbo's long career, they came to refer to it as the Silver Prison, an isle beautifully built to hold them captive.

The island itself was not all that different from Sandbeach in its terrain, the main isle was largely sand with some dry area where some palm trees grew. The isle connected to a larger mountainous chain of tropical islands farther out which could be seen in the distance, an impossible land which was the native home of various lizards and birds. The isle's only settlement was Barbo's grand compound which sat on the coast, built entirely out of beautiful stone and foreign masonry which made even the pampered Tarlo blush.

Tarlo could not fully describe how decadent and beautiful the island's settlement was, as they pulled into a small but beautiful harbor with a stone pier and decorated dock. Statues of foreign figures dotted it, with small offices and an impressive and organized setup of warehouses. The largest dock was preserved for the largest ship in the harbor, which was being repaired by the slaves and trained lizards of the settlement, having recently seen battle. The settlement itself was a mixture of huts, with a large penned stockade near the coast with a high sea wall where the slaves themselves lived, with the lizards themselves having setup their camps around a truly massive palace.

The palace was the main focus of the settlement, the home of Barbo Senger. From the outside, Tarlo could be nothing but impressed. It held a similar design to his own home at Sandbeach, but yet was different in many ways. It was entirely white, with many domed roofs and structures beyond. It sported a personal room, greeting halls, dining areas, kitchens, libraries, theaters, and even a western temple. Tarlo recognized the temple almost immediately, and would have never had guessed that this corsair was even remotely religious, let alone bowed before a western god. He had heard of the cats from the west, where his mother's family originated from, who bowed their heads low to a god, and Tarlo began to wonder if he was actually meeting a Stout corsair or a wild cat in disguise.

As the two stepped off, they were greeted by several lizards who did not look happy to see the Black Sea Plow nor its crew. Sagan called down from the ship at them "Me hearties! Good to see ya all again! Go an' Tell Barbo that his good friend Sagan Black wishes to parlay wit him!"

The lizards called up "Yousss will waitsss here thisss time, fox." Tarlo noticed that the tribal lizards were large brown skinks, but most lizards to him looked the same. Their garb however only bloomed his curiosity. They were clearly still very tribal, with their mixture of blue and red tattoos and necklaces of teeth, but they had a very clear (and forced) garb of corsair clothes. Loose fitting shirts, cloth caps, and most were armed with long sabres. Sagan and Tarlo awaited on the ship's edge, with Sagan having to explain.

"In one of me many adventures, I may or may not have stolen a precious jewel to get back at Barbo fer stealin it first when I came fer a 'friendly visit'. So if his lizards be a bit more paranoid den yer used to, just try not to look em directly in the eyes."

"You stole from someone we are trying to recruit?"

"Aye, I am a pirate, tis what I do. Besides, it wasn't his to steal! Twas mine!"

"Tell me, what are these lizards. Are they his crew?"

"Nay, they were picked up by Barbo from der islands off in the distance, a mountain people. He convinced dem that he was some kind of god er somethin, an' that the best way to serve der gods is to serve him. Twas quite a trick. The best trick he pulled yet however was convincen dem to give up meat after they tried to siege down his own slave pen fer meat. I was der fer that event."

"How did he ever do that?"

"He said dat slave meat was poison an' would bring bad luck tis the best way to describe it, an dat only the meat from dead warriors could fill em. He sends his little groups on raids of other lizards on the isle to feed em."

Tarlo didn't like to think about that, and was joined by Grof and Morland. Sagan was joined by Brea who looked annoyed that they were docked in a harbor for less then a few moments, loudly complaining to her captain. "Sagan, tis be nothing but a bore! Let us leave to find the badger ship ourselves."

"An face down five entire ships? No thank you! We know full well they won't head back to Salamandastron just yet, they'll find der way to Green Isle first no doubt. Adam an' his crew won't give up this fight till they know they can no longer fight it there. Green Isle may have been raided, but dos otters learned an' will likely help the badger lord best he can. Barbo be the only creature who faced off against sea otter galleys an' came back without a scratch an' a bundle of loot."

"Well. My broth-" Tarlo began.

"Yer Brother came after, a knife in an already open wound. Der otters been chasin Barbo fer many years, an' failed many times. He captured so many captains, sons of captains, an interestin creatures dat he chained der best an' most prestigious of his slaves to his gallery."

Morland looked at Barbo's personal vessel. He heard of what happened to many sea otter captains and their family who dared tried to hunt the pirate. His commander had once said that all who went after Barbo had died, but to imagine them suffering as his prisoners seemed to break Morland's heart once again. Tarlo however seemed a bit skeptical "Truly?"

"Aye. Barbo was more active durin the wars in Mossflower with some black rat named Kasg the Craven. Kasg sent emissaries to him, askin him to distract an' dismantle Green Isle's shippin lanes, an Barbo took it as a personal challenge. He raided an' pillaged the isle an' its colonies fer years. Never caught, an' spent much of his time hidin here on his personal pier to build himself dis beauty."

Rather suddenly, the lizards came back and called up to the ship. They had been silent and swift, making their demands known "Youss will leavesss your weaponsss on your ssship. Who willsss be coming to meetsss the master?"

Tarlo spoke out "Me, Sagan, and our company. My servants and. . ." He turned to Sagan who padded his first mate on the back to indicate who he wanted to bring "And his first mate."

The lizards let up a ramp for them to come down with the group putting away their weapons. Sagan obeyed, but he hid a knife in the section of his boot. Sagan was not exactly fully ready to see Barbo again, their last conversation had not been a happy one. Yet, the old stout might just forgive him if he remained himself. He be me rival, not me enemy. With baited breath, Sagan smelled the sea salted air and moved down from the ramp first.
_

The group came onto the pier and began to move towards the entrance of the port which led to a great series of stairs which led up into the palace compound. Coming down from those stairs was a large and old looking Stout, which Tarlo could only guess was Barbo Senger himself. The stout was dressed in a colorful and heavy tunic, his head covered in a white and silver turban. Barbo had a deep brown gleam to his fur, recently washed and well groomed appearance with the fut that showed, his small sandal boots tapped lightly with each step. The most instinctive part of him was his large cape which flowed from his back, a colorful orange and green silk which draped next to him. Barbo was flanked by two armored skinks, each of them a captain within his horde, with one of his former first mates, a feral cat himself, having joined in as well. Barbo had a frowning face, as the two legendary pirates of the western sea approached one another.

Tarlo and his company looked deeply worried, with Tarlo himself looking up into the sky to see his gull Peckers flying overhead. The gull could feed himself, but likely the pirates would not have noticed much of his pet's presence. Sagan and Barbo came forward, looking cold and stiff as the two looked each other up and down. Barbo spoke out, his voice soothing and gentle, with a hint of anger and fury spurred his words.

"Sagan Black, the last time we met, you had come to me in peace. Your ship seems quite as black as your merry and empty soul."

"Ahh, Barbo. Ye never lack words to say to a pirate like me self. Yer grown since I last saw ye."

There was a silence, Tarlo half suspected a fight. All of a sudden, Barbo smiled bigly and spoke out again, that hint of anger and fury in his gentle and calm voice faded away almost in an instant "Yes, I quite have Sagan. You have shortened since we last met." The pirates grinned and then began to laugh. Whatever old joke between them neither Tarlo or his party understood, as both embraced one another as long time friends, much to the confusion of even Barbo's own lizards and companions. Barbo seemed legitimately happy to see Sagan and turned to Tarlo and his shocked companions. Morland had heard nothing but tales of a demon who walked like a beast, a corsair so evil and so diabolical that his name brought fear and terror to his people. Yet the stout took off his turban and gave a wide and dramatic bow to his guests.

"Welcome strangers and friends of Sagan Black, I am Barbo Senger, Corsair Extraordinar! Terror of the open waters, he who razed the ships of Green Isle with but a flick of his wrist, and connoisseur of the best wines in all the seas. I am more particularly proud of my last title of course."

"I am relieved, matey! I wondered if ya were just goin to chop me to bits wit yer sabre." Sagan pointed his paw at Barbo's belt, a massive scimitar hanged from it which the stout patted gleefully. "Of course not, my dear Sagan. Your last trip was quite entertaining, and if I remember, I did nearly catch you. It made for a most wonderful story, and sparked my imagination! By the time I figured out what had happened, you were being chased from one end of the compound to the other! I began writing a novel on it, believe it or not."

"I'd love to read it." Sagan laughed "I'm just relieved yer still the good ol' you."

"Of course, as much as I miss those jewels, I must ask what had become of them, to finish my notes on my epilogue."

"Sadly, I sold em' fer a pint of beer an' lost der rest in a card game."

The stout moved his lips to the side, a bit suddenly disappointed in what he heard. He fascinated himself with what possible fate could have befell his treasures, but put aside his grievances "I shall think of a better ending. I am relieved, Sagan, I feared I would never see you again, let alone you would return so boldly to my isle in such a prestigious company!"

Tarlo perked up "You know who I am?"

"Who cannot? You are Tarlo Greeneyes I believe, son of the 'emperor' of Green Isle himself, the great and infamous Milo Greeneyes. Lord of all Vermin. Master of all Slaves. Your eyes, my good friend, gives you away. Your age, your very servants. My dear daughter and I have evaded your father's thralls for many seasons, practically chased us away from the shores of Green Isle believe it or not."

Tarlo was impressed as Barbo shook his paw with a friendly and drastic demeanor "A firm but shocked paw, I see. Come now, my good wild cat friend, do not tell me you are that silver spooned? Come shake my paw properly. There, that is it." Barbo and Tarlo shook their paws, with the stout practically teaching him how to do so. Barbo snapped his fingers and called his attention his lizards "Show our guests into the palace. We shall meet you shortly, for I have some short business to attend to."

"No tricks?" Brea quickly and rudely blurted out. The Stout smiled, clapping his paws to her shoulders "No tricks, my dear." Brea shivered, as Barbo hurried them along, his attention turned to his own galley.
_

The Holy Reckoning was truly one of the few ships in his long career he had ever truly cared so much for, his first and only war galley which had seen his career blossom. It was one the deck of the ship he had dramatically wooed his rival and mate, it was in the the cabin during the midst of battle that she had given him his daughter, and it was from the side of the ship he had seen her put into a funeral lifeboat and floated out into the waters and burned. It wasn't even the largest galley he had been on, let alone commanded. He once had a different name, in a desert city far off where the wild cats called home, where he had grown up a poor courier. He made a name for himself as a pirate, learned much from the temples and libraries, and used his knowledge to get to where he was today. His crew were still fixing up the ship, his vermin corsairs, a mix of feral cats, rats, and fellow stouts. All had known Barbo for years, others new recruits, and each had been in his employ for so long they were comforted as he drew near.

The Holy Reckoning however had a very different and less wholesome appeal to those who actually rowed it as Barbo made his common visit below into the gallery itself. Corsairs, the vermin who used galleys specifically or had come from the western vermin ports, normally cared very little about their galley slaves. The captains would sometimes see one of their new captures being dragged down into their new miserable life as living cogs in a ship's machine, powering to oars much to their exhaustion and broken dismay. The last time a captain may see their captures was when they finally collapsed and died, and were taken from their oars and their corpses thrown overboard.

Barbo was different, and to his captives, was twice as cruel.

Barbo looked at his most favorite prisoners, as the shaken and dejected heads of many sea otters looked up to see Barbo had once again come to greet them. He looked around, the miserable creatures were all once beasts of great prestige. One was the captain of a group of marines who had served him as a rower for several years, one was a recently captured son of a skipper, another a wife of chieftain of the isle. It was Barbo's personal collection, with his whipmaster saluting him.

"Friend Barbo! No casualties from last battle as ordered. Had the one with a leg injury patched up as always of course, an's the one that got sick is recovering well."

Barbo looked about him, always impressed, his vicious grin looking over the whipped backs and brokenness of his victims. Yet one victim still always caught his eye as he went over to him, congratulating his whipmaster "Good, good. To lose a single one of my rowers is quite a tragedy of course!"

Barbo walked to the front of a middle aged otter who looked far beyond his years. He had been one of Barbo's greatest achievements, the creature looked down at his shackled paws to his oar, having no strength or care to look Barbo in the eyes, even though he knew he was lording over him. Barbo casually lifted his head, as the others watched. "Ah. Gapper Blacknose. As always, you seem quite down. What is wrong, my good and sweet captain of Green Isle, rising star of the Green Isle regiment?"

Gapper simply stared about, with empty and hollow eyes. He would have snarled if he was younger. He had been trapped in the Holy Reckoning for so long, abused to exhaustion that he had become mechanical. Barbo patted him and turned to his whipmaster. "I'll take him. Have him sent to my lounge, if you would."

Gapper looked up in surprise, only to see the fist of the whipmaster beat down on him and weaken him. Once satisfied the sea otter could not move, he unshackled him from the oar and began to set a new pair onto him. As Gapper was dazed with pain and forced upward onto the deck which he had not seen in years, his rowing mate turned to one of the others, confused and dismayed.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know, but whatever it was, I got a feelin we won't be seeing our old friend any time soon."
_

Tarlo walked into the compound of Barbo Senger, with Sagan and Brea making themselves at home. Tarlo and Morland looked around with awe. The estate was a true thing of beauty, and it reminded Tarlo much of home. The gardens, fountains, and clean marble walkways were one of true beauty. Morland himself couldn't help but be impressed, but until he understood why the gardens, fountains, and marble walkways looked so beautiful. Several slaves, nearly all of them fellow sea otters, worked and tended the estate. Most had cleaner clothes, and each wore a specific headband with strange writing on it he could not understand. They would occasionally look up from their tasks at the incoming group and then speedily go back to work when one of the lizards guards looked down on them.

The group were escorted through the compound and into a grand open area filled with pillows and low table. Several slaves came by and offered some sweets and tea. Grof looked more nervous then anyone else, and sat the most uncomfortably. He looked to a slave who was pouring tea into a cup for him and asked bluntly "Dis isn't poisoned, ain't it?"

The slave shook their head "No, my lord. Barbo doesn't use poisons."

Tarlo nudged his marine "My good Grof, no reason to think this Stout will kill us just yet. Right Sagan?"

"I mean, he might, it does really depend on his mood."

Tarlo's impression seemed to dissipate and melded into worry "Mood?"

"Aye. Barbo has his moods, matey. He can be quite unpredictable if ya don't know him all too well. He can be the calmest an' most theatrical beast one day, an' a cruel an heartless cretan the next. Were lucky he likes me a lot more den hates me, cause he can hate a great deal. Hes also really good wit his blade, an' can cut us into pieces if we offend him." Sagan took a sip of his tea, being relatively calm for what he was telling Tarlo "Barbo tis not a decent creature by any means, as mean as any vermin, but he can give ya a decent song an' dance. I will be doin the talkin, ya just try to keep to yerself an' enjoy his luxuries."

Barbo however did not join them for some time, and came along with another stout. It was a younger female who was dressed much like him, covered in a silken burka. She kept close to him and spoke with a similar friendly demeanor, although she turned her attention to Brea "Welcome back to the isle Brea, long time, no see."

"Penolpe Senger, ya look much older last time we's met, lass."

The stout maiden gave a cruel smile with neither Tarlo or his company knowing any particular history between the two. Brea uncomfortably took a sip of the tea as Barbo spoke up. "To what honor do I owe this visit Sagan and young Greeneyes? As much as I am excited to see you return to my isle, and in hopefully good fortune and without any ill will this time, I cannot fathom as to why you would come."

Sagan was blunt, preferring to get the information all out and in the open "Me friend, Barbo. Did ye even know der be a badger lord on the open sea, wieldin the mighty ship the Mountain of the Sea?"

"Well, no. Why ever would the badger lord be doing that I wonder." Barbo was clearly sarcastic as he gave a bored stare at Tarlo. He had already had a good guess why a badger lord of Salamanderstron was out and about in the open ocean.

"I wanted to recruit ya, me hearty, to be perfectly honest with ya. The emperor MIlo Greeneyes be hirin me to find the ship an' intercept em, in return I get to keep that beauty of a hare ship fer meself of course."

Barbo finished his tea and handed it off to a slave with a gentle paw "I see, but I am quite dumbfounded by fox friend an occasional enemy, I thought you found such things beneath you. Remember when Kasg offered you a whole island for your services?"

Tarlo listened intently as Sagan sighed "Aye. I told em' an his captains he could shove himself into a locker an' throw emself into a early grave. I don't think he liked dat one, fer certain. I remember ya took him up on der offer, but on yer own terms."

"I did. He asked me to, oh how did he put it, 'raze the island of Green Isle, butcher its people, and leave the people of Mossflower to sulk alone' or something like that. Quite a violent fellow to be certain. I did of course did as he asked at first, offering me the whole grand isle for myself, but then I realized quite late how much of a miserable drole of an island Green Isle is. Too mountainous for my tastes, and its people not so cultured." Morland wanted to speak up to this comment in particular but held his tongue. Barbo continued, taking a meager bite of a soft biscuit "I realized quite late that I was very rich, I had treasures stacked very high with no real means to use them. Twas quite a boring story to be certain, me and my dear wife once agreed. We decided that an island such as Green Isle wasn't enough for the likes of our luxury, living as boring lords over a people who would likely just kill us. So we decided to build a better estate on a sandy and beautiful beach closer to home. Made for quite a tale I must say, taking a people who live boring and humble lives to built a proper palace for a humble and exciting pirate like myself."

Morland couldn't help but lose his appetite at the comment, as Barbo suddenly shot up and took one of the slaves, a sea otter maiden, into his arms and began a rather forceful dance. Deeply discomfortable, Barbo continued his speech "As you must know, my dear Sagan and to you as well my good Greeneyes, I prefer nothing more then a good story, a decent end, a wonderful beginning! When I die, my legacy will be one of a gentle corsair with a heart of silver and gold, who makes all beasts sing and dance wether they come from east or west, vermin or woodlander, slave or free. I believe I had made my point to the world, by force I must say." He twirled the otter around gracefully who was able to escape his grasp and dust herself off. Dismissed by Barbo, he sat back down as Sagan grunted in amusement. "That one is a more recent servant, I always prefer to show the newer help how I work around in my palace, and that they have no reason to fear me. Yet."

"So, ya wanna help out den?"

"Sagan, I am retired, I am frankly quite done with my adventures. Since the death of my shining star in my life, the will to go out without my most important audience has gone away like an early morning star rolling down from the sky, giving way to the bright sun to light the way for their own adventures and tales." Barbo turned to his daughter with a smile who playfully patted him back. "Please, my fasha, you must not do this in front of our guests. I am certain the Greeneyes already know me well enough."

Tarlo didn't, but he did hear tales of Barbo's raiding ships attacking his father's allies. Barbo would explain that he would sometimes follow behind in his own ship, helping his daughter raid the otter colonies and wayward trading vessels, but his main rivals had not only been Long Patrol warships which hunted for him. Gashan and his allied confederation of pirate lords also chafed under the single corsair who eluded them, raiding them for their own loot. "It is nothing but a pirate's business, Gashan and his floating circus can be quite interesting in their own right, but lack a certain imagination."

Sagan tried to be as diplomatic as possible with Barbo "Den ye can agree dat given Gashan a chance to catch up will ruin me and yer legacy, matey. Why give dat soulless wretch even a moment of rest, eh? We never worked well together, ya an' me, but I am offerin ya a chance to fight a badger lord, eh?"

"I am sorry my good friend, and I don't see much benefit in it. As interesting as it would be to kill a lord of Salamanderstron, it just does not fit my time table. Besides, wouldn't they have already gone back to their mountain?"

"Nay, they be headin to Green Isle, I am most certain of it. They'll head der first, since it be implied they will be good allies against the Greeneyed Horde. Dey be supported by four others ships, perhaps more if the otters do aid em."

Barbo thought about it but still shook his head "I am a sea raider with but a few ships of my own, I need no fleet Sagan and neither do you. I suppose you would need help in defeating a larger force, but I do not see much of a tale in this. Let alone even a benefit."

"Der Greeneyes could give ya a pardon to raid der shores of Green Isle to yer heart's content."

"I already have more then I could ever need, my friend. My gallery is full of the most prestigious beasts of the isle, my island is well supplied in soldiers and crew mates tended to by my many prisoners, and I sell off my horde of treasures to pay for my food and things. My dear and beautiful Penolpe is becoming quite an experienced sea raider herself, perhaps she would join you if she so wished."

"As interesting as it would be, Mr. Black, I think I would prefer to rest. My ship isn't as big, and your quest is quite perilous." Penolpe shrugged and lounged about. Sagan tried to continue to argue with Barbo, but Tarlo could realize that Barbo didn't seem all that interested. Tarlo coughed and spoke up, an idea forming in his mind.

"My dear Barbo Senger, as you know me, perhaps if I may say, I can know you a bit more?"

"Oh?" Barbo turned his attention to Tarlo who spoke with some authority. The wild cat smiled and began to sip his tea as Barbo explained himself "Whatever do you wish to know, young prince."

"I wish to know, I have heard of you from my father's rants, but I have not heard of you myself. I haven't even known you till I came here, to enjoy your decent company. Do tell me a bit more of yourself, if you would please."

Sagan was about to speak up, knowing that Barbo looked rather shocked and insulted. The corsair then began a rather lengthy speech as he got comfortable and spoke out like a song. "Where does one begin with a life such as mine? Should I tell you the tale of how I became the corsair I was, or start where things got most exciting? Before you were even born, my Greeneyed prince, I was fighting off my rivals on the open sea one by one, sinking their ships into the abyss below! I tricked and evaded the hares of Mossflower's cursed mountain, I turned the tide of war with a single ship against the isle of otters, I even took a finger from the king of the isle. I stole many creatures from home and ship, made a treasury so high tha-" Barbo was interrupted by a clap from Tarlo.

"Ah! My brother quite certainly would love to meet you! He had the right hand of the Wildlough high king!"

Barbo widened his eyes, as Tarlo continued. "Quite a good tale, I suppose one could start, my good friend with how you came to be, but I am sad to say I truly have never heard of your exploits. Perhaps if I may offer a suggestion?"

Barbo wasn't a creature to seethe, but he did grit his teeth. Sagan looked deeply worried and sweated, not sure what Tarlo was doing. The wild cat happily drank his tea and spoke like a silver tongued snake, a flowery voice which dripped with sarcastic torment. "We Greeneyes pride ourselves on our ability to bring all manner of creatures and peoples into our fold, my good Barbo Senger. You may know of me, but to not know of you is a true tragedy! Perhaps if you aided in our hunt of the badger lord and his mighty ship, my father would more than gladly secure your lovely legacy not in recent memory, but in our libraries and tales and songs! You have a most interesting life, but how can one remember it if the only ones who can remember such things are slaves and your own friends? Why not explore such grander options?"

Barbo frowned for a moment, but then shot up with a smile and a laugh "Ah, I see you are quite a silver tongued devil! Would you also like a side of my soul for such service?"

"No, why get in the way of your great story? Imagine it my dear Barbo, leading the very charge of your mighty armies into the fray of Green Isle, taking your ship to fight and defeat the badger lord? Who knows what kind of-" It was now Tarlo's turn to be interrupted as ideas formed in the imaginative mind of Barbo.

"I can see it now." Barbo stood, motioning his paws in various directions, like trying to form a picture "I can see a great ride into the fray of battle, a final and last showing to a captive audience! The Great Barbo, Corsair and Terror, to show up at a last and single moment to the doorstep of his oldest pursuers in their final moment, to deliver onto them the final death nail! Then, with a swish of my sword, the badger lord and his admiral's heads fall into the ocean with a glorious and loud splash, their minions and soldiers look on in shock and horror! I can see it, oh I can see it most well!"

Sagan dropped his jaw in surprise as Tarlo egged on the corsair "Then, you realize with a sudden realization, you are in fact the only true pirate of the sea! More so then Gashan, as you give onto your friend Sagan his most beloved ship. I can see us all, taking our final battle to the shores of Green Isle in triumph, my brother awaiting us on the shore, his face alight with the flame of jealousy at our success!"

"Yes! Yes! I waltz with an army to my back, a parade of green eyed banners marching up to the capital of the isle, our final triumph in paw. To look at the high king's face, a priceless picture I would have to bring along an artist for. I know just the one too, a painter who still is in my. . .forced employ."

Barbo's daughter enjoyed her father's shifting around, the creature was old yet still active in his old age. He seemed to enjoy himself, catching himself in his creative mood. Morland was perhaps the only creature who disliked it deeply, the soft sounding words of the group discussing the destruction of his home and others made him sick. Yet, he remained silent. Barbo turned to Tarlo, impressed and motivated.

"You can spin a old corsair's mind to life, my good Tarlo Greeneyes. For a chance at improving my already impressive legacy, I think I will join you. However, I must make several small improvements first before we leave. We will go off tomorrow morning."

Tarlo cheered with a sip of tea, with Sagan feeling out beaten, he lounged with Brea. Not bad, Tarlo. Not bad at all, mate. Glad I brought ya along.
_

Tarlo and Sagan enjoyed their evening meal and were escorted to the guest rooms. They discussed their plans in the middle of the night and briefly with Barbo about the status of the badger ship and its crew. The group agreed that they are likely to go for Green Isle first before heading back to Salamandastron, and it wasn't a bad tactical choice either. The badger lord couldn't do much from his mountain, and Green Isle was a mess which needed constant help. Tarlo suspected that the badger lord did not know that Green Isle wasn't his father's prize, it was a side meal compared to his true goal of reconquering Mossflower. The three agreed to a plan, one for which they could all agree too. They would sail to Green Isle and meet up with Minto and his raiding fleet, and attempt to bait the Mountain of the Sea into an engagement. Their time table was short as it was, and the group bickered whether it would have been more prudent to simply leave in the night. Barbo insisted the group stayed to rest up, as he wished to make preparations for himself.

Tarlo and Sagan's parties were guided to their guest rooms where they lounged for the night in total comfort, tended to by some of Barbo's servants. Barbo however disappeared with his daughter into the estate. The two discussed as they walked.

"I imagine you will bring Molgar with you and some of his tribe?"

"Yes, naturally of course my dear. Fighting a badger lord will not be easy of course."

Penolpe did not seem happy with her father's statement, frowning and speaking her mind. She was comfortable with her father, but never wished to pry. She was perhaps the only one to see her father to ever get angry, truly angry, and it was a rare occurrence. "I imagine I will stay behind, to look after our good home? Know that I won't stay long, I wish to be back on the open seas myself with my crew."

"Oh no, of course no my dear! I want you to join me."

Penople was surprised and looked up to her old father, giving her a proud smile "You have grown into quite a sea raider yourself, a follower to your mother's wonderful footsteps which makes me more proud then you can imagine. Better then my thought of you joining an actor's troupe, but beggars cannot be choosers."

"Troupe? Me? Ha! You wish."

"Wish indeed. Now come, I had a gift I wished to give you."

The two went down the dark and empty hallways and into the main chamber of the stoney estate. Night was falling fast as both stouts entered into the main hall. There, Penolpe came into the great marble hall, dimly lit in the evening light as she looked upon two lizards guarding a single sea otter who looked downward at the floor. His old armor and kilt was nearly worn away, chafing under the heavy chains which connected from his neck to his paws and feet. He could barely stand, having not done so in a long time. Penolpe did not reogonize him as she was pulled closer by her father to him. "My dear, I believe you had not met one of my most prestigious capture face to face, this is Gapper Blacknose, valiant captain of Green Isle. He was one of my first I send to my gallery."

Gapper didn't speak, he suspected he would be dead soon, another victim to Barbo's insane cruelty. He remembered that day well, leading a group of otters to fight the corsair in a ill fated boarding action to challenge the raider personally. His creatures died, and he was cruelly captured. Barbo took great pleasure showing him the gallery of his galley, before forcing him to pick the unfortunate soul he would replace. He chose the youngest, hoping in vain the corsair would free him, only to hear the sobbing and blood curdling cries followed by a loud splash into the water. He had remained chained to a oar for so long, he had nearly forgotten that Barbo even lived in an estate, built by the toiling paws of his people. He hated Barbo, but grew more to hate himself in this particular moment, having no will or strength to even lift his head to the two stouts.

Penolpe lifted his head for him, staring into his sad and hollow eyes. "He is quite strong for an oar beast still, an interesting catch my dear fasha."

"An interesting catch indeed. I was thinking of you my dear, I wanted you to have a gift as you travelled with us, a servant to tend to you. Nothing would please me more then to see you well cared for by one of my most broken oar beasts, a gift from me to you."

Gapper couldn't even give into a urge of resistance as Penolpe looked around at him, touching his well scarred back. The older otter couldn't even bring himself to flinch as she dragged a claw across it, rather impressed. "I must say, as a gift me fasha, he is quite well molded. How can I accept such a gift like this? He is one of your favorite oar beasts is he not?"

"He is, but he is also mine to give. I will find many decent replacements more than likely in our journey. Perhaps I might even convince this Greeneyed emperor to give me those clanbeast's skippers as my rowers, to add onto our legend. Your mother, if she were standing amongst us now, would be proud of you. You have proven over to me many times how capable you are with ship, command, and song, and I think now is the time to begin building up one final tale to end our little charade with. A tale of woe and plunder for which no creature can steal from the likes of us."

She turned her attention back to Gapper "Clean this beast up, an' give him a proper set of clothes. Gapper is your name ain't it?"

Gapper knew full well he was a broken thing, and spoke up meekly to his new found mistress "Yes, mam."

"Ah. Molded well indeed. You can keep your name for now, until I bore of it of course. Serve me well, and you won't suffer much. Resist me, and the oar will look like a vacation to you."

Had Gapper been younger and free, he would have looked up at the Sengers in their eyes and spat at them. He paw twitched with a wanton need to grapple at them, to unleash a fury of blows upon Barbo in particular. The well mannered murderer stood before him, a monster in the cloak of an actor. He wanted nothing more than to prove himself again, to bring about a swift end to Barbo and his evil, rid the world of a pirate who had caused nothing but misery onto him and his people, and who delighted in his own fantastical tales of destroying all that he held dear. Yet, years in service as little more than a thrall left him without even a voice to speak up. He simply nodded his head and walked off in chains, followed by the lizard guard. Rather suddenly, there was a whip crack in the air and he felt a sudden and terrible pain in his back, a sting which put him to the floor. Kneeling over in the chains on him, he realized quickly what had happened. He looked behind to see Penolpe furling up her whip.

Gapper slowly got up. He could never truly understand the point of vermin cruelty, it was random and without much thought to it. He didn't react, knowing that was exactly what the cruel corsair wanted. She would have wanted nothing more than to see him try to resist, so that she could break him further himself. He resisted, and succeeded. Penolpe looked on impressed. No wonder her father was proud of his gift. It wasn't just some meager slave he pulled from his stock of other estate slaves, but a broken former captain. She motioned her guards to continue hauling him off to her quarters.

"Well Molded indeed." She commented.

---

Tarlo and Sagan were fairly ready to set sail, only to find Barbo was not. Despite it being early morning on his isle, Barbo was ordering around both his infamous crews, lizards, and slaves to begin packing for his grand journey, which he found more difficult to do. Tarlo's gang of misfits walked into the main hall, to see two lizards struggling to carry a comically overfull chest filled to the brim with strange sets of colorful clothes with Barbo arguing with his former first mate, a wild cat named Al'zuab.

"Al, my friend, I will only be away for a short amount of time, It's not like I expect you to actually rule the island. The remaining lizards and families should be more than enough to keep everything in line while I am gone. Give it a few seasons at least before you write me off as dead."

"I thought, Barbo, you would be smarter than that, my friend and captain. I will steward the isle while you are gone, if our god be merciful. The seas however, are never merciful, and you bring a lot with you. Certainly you can at least keep your daughter here while I enjoy my old age!"

"Not necessary, my dear Penolpe is a strong girl, a maiden of strong virtue. She has the heart much like her dear mother, and even if I had denied her to join me on my quest, she would join regardless." Barbo feigned a dramatic speech much to the wild cat's annoyance. He rolled his eyes as Barbo commanded about.

"You slaves! Try not to drop my collection of books will you? I would hate for you and your families to have tanned and red backs! Those are quite priceless!"

Tarlo looked around more at the scene before him with Barbo stressing his minions with his needs for efficiency. It amused Tarlo greatly as the corsair commanded such respect and fear from those around him, with Sagan drinking a morning cup of ale to wash down the sugary treats he was being fed. Barbo would whirl around like a dancer all across the floor to the two, with a clear amount of hidden excitement in his voice, but kept a gentle and booming calm. "Ah, I see you are awake. I hope my accommodations were to your liking."

"As always, matey." Sagan winked at the corsair, holding his first mate close.

"Naturally of course, How about you dear Tarlo?"

"I slept like a child, although I do admit I miss my own bed."

"Oh?"

"My wife is far off, no amount of comfort can truly compare to sleeping next to one's mate."

Barbo dramatically clutched his heart and gave a deep and equally dramatic sigh, as if he had been pierced by an arrow "Oh, that truly is quite a sad thing I tell you. I know this feeling more than any other, and even after all this time I can not bear to hear it. We should then move most quickly, unfurl our sails, and row ever faster to a quick victory! I swear you will see your mate again, my dear Tarlo, for I would never wish to deny you such a return." Barbo's antics made Tarlo give out a low chuckle as he grasped his two companions' shoulders, egging them along to the docks. Following them was Barbo's bloodthirsty crew of older and experienced pirates, who packed their things and made their goodbyes to their loved ones who had come to the estate to see them off.
_

Gapper spent his night resting in comfort for what felt like the first time in an age, even though it was little more than cold stoney ground of a sandstone cell underneath the estate. He was fairly used to sleeping sitting up, and his mind remained fairly empty. He wondered what horrible plans and terrible deeds awaited him in the service of Penolpe Senger, and his exhaustion from those tormentive years under Barbo's lash had drained him of much of his imagination. When he was finally collected, dragged upward by members of Penolpe's crew, he was brought into a serene living area of Penolpe's living estate. It, like many other places in the estate, was a thing of overbearing decadence. It angered Gapper deeply how the corsair lived in the lap of luxury, on the backs of his people. One of the pirates ordered him about "Ya keep standin der as the cap'n comes back, otter. Her orders. She will be back from her mornin prayer soon enough."

Gapper sniffed in response as he stood motionless except for the occasional breath. Penolpe eventually came, with a light foot to her step, passing by the otter without as much even looking at him. She seemed busy as she commanded her crew "Roz'rul. Vel. Start gathering the crew. We will be following a pace back from Pa's ship and the Black Sea Plow. I don't wish to be late by even a second more." The corsairs obeyed as she came out with her favorite sabre, looking Gapper over who stood like a shadow in the middle of the room. She smirked and came over to him, unshackling his chains which fell to the floor with a harsh slap upon the floor.

Gapper had been stripped of his old and destroyed uniform, and was forced to wear far less ragged tunic. Penolpe inspected him, taking out her sabre and looking around him. Gapper suspected his life would soon come to some brutal and cruel end soon, which didn't seem all that bad to him, even if he had to endure as being little more than a spoiled brat's play thing to be used as a living target. Yet as Penolpe came to his front, she swished her sabre expertly, and some of Gapper's whiskers fell to the ground. The corsair maiden grunted in satisfaction "Looking more of a proper servant, it seems. Although, you do need a proper trim, and some proper cleaning. Sadly, I have no time for that, so you will just have to follow."

Gapper did as ordered as Penolpe began to list off her duties to Gapper who could only listen and nod his head meekly "You will be doing what my normal slaves do normally, which is to of course make sure my cabin is kept clean and neat, my breakfast served warm, and to make sure my weapons shine in the evening sun. Normally I would have had you sworn into the temple and all that, but we will do that after we return to port. You will not speak unless spoken to naturally, I sure do hope those years in the gallery taught you that much."

The two walked out into the busy halls, with the stout maiden quickly stopping. Gapper would stop as well with a sudden jerk. She would continue to walk, and suddenly stop. Gapper looked annoyed, but continued to do as she bid, clearly she was trying to get him to react for her own amusement. For Gapper himself, he knew full well what was going on, as Barbo had done something rather similar. He would sometimes take over the role of whipmaster in the gallery while he was on his ship, and purposefully whip him at random intervals at one day, but then treating him well on another. To him, the Sengers played this game well, breaking him down into no longer questioning their motives and goals, and to simply just surrender into their madness. It perhaps annoyed Penolpe the most that her father's cruel game worked far more on Gapper then even she thought.

Penolpe was within good spirits, and came down into the main hall to see her father. Embraced in one another's arms and twirling, they both kissed each other upon the cheeks as Barbo spoke aloud to his new found friends "We should make for our ships at once. The more time we waste, the more time we give to our query! Come, Sagan and Tarlo." The group followed out into the main harbor, and lagging behind was Morland and Gapper would both hold their paws meekly behind their back. Morland was shocked to see Gapper at all, he was once a valued hero to Green Isle, believed to be dead from an attempt to kill Barbo in a raid on his ship. To see such a creature broken and following a vermin master as he was left him speechless.

Gapper noticed Morland was staring without turning to face him. Humiliation was a common part of his retinue that he remained in a perpetual state of annoyed misery. "Try not to stare, and keep your head low."

"You are Gapper Blacknose are you not?" Morland said silently "We thought you we-"

"To you and everyone else, it is best you still believe I am dead. Now do as I say, and what they command."

Morland was shocked how quick Gapper wanted to keep up his new servile role. "If you are here and alive with us, maybe there is still hope left. Maybe we can es-" Gapper took him aside and silenced him.

"Do not even speak of it. You look and sound new to all this. If you speak up, you step out of line for even a moment, you will not be the only one they harm. Just give up now and save yourself the trouble."

The words cut more deeper than any whipmark Morland had received thus far, the hollow and soulless eyes of Gapper as he sadly returned to following in the footsteps of Penolpe Senger was a drain of his strength. It frightened Morland, wondering if that was the fate that awaited him.
_

The gang of vermin and their respective soldiers came onto the pier, with Barbo's huge collection of books, favorite vittles, maps, and actor's appeals having at long last been loaded onto the Holy Reckoning. Sagan's own crew impatiently awaited the return of their captain, who had been left mostly in the dark of what was going on. To see their captain alive and well resulted in a short cheer, and an exchange of betting vittles. Barbo pulled Tarlo aside before he could return to the ship, with Grof and Morland looking how busy the docks were. Barbo smiled as he gleefully told Tarlo his ambitions.

"I am most excited to see where this story will take us, and of course I will expect nothing less then to visit Green Isle again. . .without being chased by your father's ships."

"I hope you do as well, although you may be joined by less then patient brother Minto."

"Ah yes, I know him well, although he perhaps doesn't know me. His ship was quite easy to evade. His appearance did get me interested in reading up on what was happening back in Sandbeach. Gashan's rise to power alone was quite an interesting set of affairs."

"Then you know my father's wishes?"

"The great Milo Greeneyes, son of Margos Greeneyes, has motives as predictable as a hungry seal going after a big and lonesome fish. Green Isle is only the beginning to your own father's boring and simple tale of conquest and brutal enslavement of all living things living in Mossflower of course. It's quite droll."

"Droll? How can a conquest such as that, to avenge my family's lost honor be droll?"

"Your father sends for sea scum like Gashan of course tells me more than what I will ever need to know. For a pirate like himself, mixed up in everyone's business, he constantly must be in more interesting creature's eyes to find relevance. Gashan tried several times to bring me to your father's side before, but the way he speaks always bored me. His attempts at bribery could leave much to be desired."

"You know Gashan well?"

"Yes, more accurately, I know his former master well. Quite a decent card player, not a good screamer. Tried to cheat me once, came to instantly regret it." Barbo shrugged casually as he turned to Tarlo "I ask you, Tarlo Greeneyes, perhaps you would wish to join me on the cruise to Green Isle. To impress Sagan alone is a feat, and I would love to know your company a bit more."

"Will you make me scrub your decks?"

Barbo chuckled "No, of course not."

Tarlo sighed with relief "I think I will join you for the time being. I see your daughter is already preparing her own ship, will she be joining us?"

"Yes, most certainly. Even if I begged her to stay, her mother's spirit would bid her to come. Now, be sure you are on my ship in the next hour or two, because I do wish to set off."

Passing by Grof and Morland came a huge brown skink in a breastplate, with tribal paw marks all over his armor and face, tattooed heavily with all manner of symbols, the skulls of enemy tribes hanged from a necklace of vine. He gave a humble bow to Barbo who looked up at his favorite captain "Your skinks are ready, my good friend?"

The lizard was silent and snapped his claws, and a division of warriors were suddenly creeping out from the shadows of the dock. Tarlo was impressed as Barbo gave them some form of friendly greeting in their language. "Do not mind Molgar too much. He has been a decent captain, he and his lizards will keep to their part of the ship of course."

"I see. Morland. Grof. You go collect our things, I think I will spend this trip getting to know Barbo a bit more. Now excuse me my good Corsair friend, I must speak to Sagan before we leave."
_

The three ships set sail from Barbo's isle, with both the families and friends of the corsairs waving goodbye to their chief and boss as he valiantly looked on from the tip of his ship off into the distance. The black carrack and grand war galley sailed side by side together. The two pirates were eager for their upcoming adventure, with another smaller galley keeping pace from behind. The morning sun set upon the fleet, setting sail into the distance. Sagan looked from his captain's deck at Tarlo in the distance, enjoying the fresh waves from Barbo's ship. Tarlo had sold Sagan on wishing to get to know Barbo a bit better, and that he would rejoin his own ship in due course, with Sagan knowing Barbo far too well to know the cat would rejoin him on his own volition.

Barbo's crew began to sing their own sea shanty, the only ones remaining silent on the ship were the skinks who were still trying to remain calm and collected as the corsairs pulled out into the open waves.

"Pull der rope an sing a mighty tune

Of the cruel oceans waves into the morning blue

We'll be heaven oars till were black an blue

An' we'll all rollin from shore to shore!"

The corsairs continued to sing this in repeat, much to Tarlo's delight who hummed with it himself. Barbo stood like a stoic hero, his cape flapping with the wind as the morning breeze overtook him, his paw resting at the hilt of his mighty scimitar. He enjoyed every moment looking like this, leaving an impression on more then just Tarlo, but his crew as well. They cheerfully got to work on the ship, with only some lazily sitting and counting their weapons. They were all experienced and older creatures, professionals who had spent a lifetime raiding ships and pirating for Barbo. Tarlo was excited to get to know the strange stout on their journey to Green Isle

Below the deck however, Morland found himself 'helping' once again. While he was not shackled like others to the oars, he was ordered by Barbo to join his kind in the gallery. Tarlo allowed this under the condition he wasn't scourged, which Barbo had his whipmaster agree too. Morland found it awkward sitting down, pulling and heaving on the oar of a galley. The otter next to him, a fellow marine who had once challenged Barbo on the shore and was unfortunately captured, wondered what was happening.

"You have no clue where we are headed, stranger?"

Morland gulped and looked at him sadly. "Yes. . .we are going home."