brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Nine

"Best to throw them overboard, where there is no chance of them setting the ship aflame," she tells him.

"I, I do not know how to operate a ship. It may be prudent to leave most of them alive, if we can."

Without hesitation, Skellig does just that with the small bag of the ceramic spheres; they sink rapidly below the waves and out of sight. The others advance; seeing the blood on the deck and the bodies of their fellow sailors, a few are clearly enraged and attack with a cry, armed with knives, hammers, another with a long pike as the one who struck Kreyu earlier had.

"You would be much better off," Skellig growls at the leader of one bunch of the clan, as he heads the opposite direction from Kreyu towards the rear of the ship. "If you all would listen--"

He ducks a punch, and another as he wades into a trio of fighters, flaring his wings wide in an effort to look THREATENING! (It works well enough, but he doesn't manage to miss the third punch, which lands hard on his left ear and momentarily sends his senses ringing.)

Kreyu tackles the bunch near her, sending them flying with blows from her wings, snapping at them with her beak. "You will all DIE if you keep fighting!" she hisses.

By fate or by luck, it is the captain of the ship who tries to hit her with the pike when he thinks she is distracted. She isn't, knocks him over and PINS him with her talons to the deck!

"STOP, STOP!" he yells. It takes a little while for that order to register with some of them, but they pause.

There is a trickle of blood coming from Skellig's ear, and he's in the middle of a true old-school wrestling match on the deck itself (he's on top) when he hears the words - STOP, STOP - and he listens also, even though he's not taking any orders from this 'captain'.

His ear hurts and there's blood in his eye, so he's squinting - so his glare is even more ferocious than usual. But he can listen with his good ear, for now. But his grip on the sailor beneath him does not loosen...

"We, we're willing to negotiate," he says, aiming his request to Skellig as much as he can with the way Kreyu has him pinned. (Probably because he looks closer to human than Kreyu does, at the moment.)

"What is it that you want?"

"Your cargo," Skellig says bluntly. "We have questions about it."

He not-so-gently suggests to the man beneath him that he 'stay' where he is at on the deck , pushing a hand square against his chest as he stands up. "There are rumors this ship is carrying captives to be sold as slaves. Is it true?"

(Skellig knows it is true. He can hear the voices and cries from the holds below, smell the stench of bodily waste below their feet. But he wants to see how 'honest' this man is.)

"Aye, we're carrying slaves," the captain replies. "Not terribly portable for someone with a need to fly, but there might be one or two below that catch your eye." His tone is no different than if he were discussing any other merchandise, because to him there IS no difference between silks, spices, and slaves.

Skellig is not above buying the entire ship's worth of slaves, having them transported, then giving them their freedom - but all that would do is continue the cycle and feed the system with more cash flow.

"Leave the concern for transport to me," he grumbles. Then he glances to Kreyu, considering, sharing a thought. It might make sense to see what they are dealing with, if he was to go below deck...

"You," he motions at one of the more nervous looking sailors. "Will show me the cargo. She will remain here with your Captain. If any sort of harm comes to me below deck...she will tear his lungs from his chest and feast upon them with no hesitation, do you understand?"

Kreyu picks up on his idea, though she isn't entirely thrilled about the fact that there is going to be a deck between them AGAIN.

She screeches, trying to look every bit the fearsome beast.

"Aye, that, that will be acceptable," the Captain babbles, Kreyu's beak mere inches from his eyeballs.

"And I will have you know, it is not just lungs she is fond of," Skellig comments. "There are other bits of a man that are just as tender, and much easier to tear free with her talons."

His smirk is not-at-all pleasant.

"Use your imaginations for that, lads." From their expressions as realization sinks in, his 'point' got across just fine, as he steps into the hatch and heads below deck towards the cargo hold.

It would be hard for a human to see clearly as they enter the cargo hold, but Skellig's sight in the dark is supreme!

About half the space down here is full of supplies and repair materials, but the other half is where the people are. That section of the hold is lined with stout bars forming two large cages, one for adult men and one for adult women and the few children. There are thirty people all together, all worried, all frightened. They're in relatively good physical shape, all things considered, none sick with disease, fed and watered enough to keep them in shape.

This is actually slightly better than Skellig was expecting - but it makes sense, as if they were to have slaves in poor condition upon arrival to 'market', they would not demand as high of a price as those who were fit and ready to work immediately upon purchase.

"This is all you have?" He asks the nervous member of the crew as he steps closer to the cage that holds the women and the few children, who are huddled near the back, being protected. Skellig touches the bars with a hand and forces himself not to recoil, pushing aside that instinct.

"Yes, that is as many as we could carry for this trip."

Which means there are more, somewhere. Locked up and waiting to be brought to the auction block...Skellig sighs, and then nods. "It will have to do for now. Come on, upstairs." He is NOT letting this man walk behind him, that is for certain.

Some of the slaves stare at his wings in a mix of confusion and awe, but both emotions fail to overcome their fear, cause them to break their silence.

The sailor is decidedly twitchy to have Skellig at his back, but he doesn't dare protest.

Kreyu relaxes ever so slightly when her eyes see Skellig again.

Skellig assumes the 'dominant' role in this negotiation (even though she is MUCH more powerful) as they arrive back on deck. "There are thirty souls, my love," he says firmly. "All appear to be healthy and strong. Men, women, a few youths."

Yes, he is speaking to the giant eagle. He still isn't exactly sure HOW they want to play this angle; negotiation, brute force, deception and last moment bait and switch...

"My wife and I have been interested in your operation for...quite some time," he offers to the Captain. "You can let him sit up a bit, dear..."

The expressions on their faces when he addresses the GIANT EAGLE as my love and then refers to the eagle as his WIFE are a sight. Confusion, disgust, disbelief, bewilderment, and more. (Some of them are DEFINITELY wondering how bedroom activities work when one partner is a GIANT EAGLE.)

Kreyu does let the Captain sit up a bit, but she keeps her talons near places the Captain most DEFINITELY does not want them.

It is smart that she is taking some control of the 'situation' and maintaining some leverage.

"Are you simply the courier, or do you profit from the sale also?" Skellig asks straight up, blunt and matter of fact. He knows he will not like the answer given regardless of the response, and it disgusts him slightly to even be having this conversation, even if it is hypothetical...

He needs to know if this is the middleman or the actual one who will gain the most from the sale of these people.

"The money goes to me," the Captain tells him. "Can offer you a cut, once they're sold. After I've paid the crew their shares, of course."

"We are no more than a day out from the mainland," Kreyu speaks, startling most everyone. "Longer to reach a port that this one could trade at."

Money goes to him - check. Skellig's opinion (already poor) of the Captain just went down a few solid notches, but he keeps his expression neutral.

"What would you figure would you ask to buy the whole lot outright?"

He is not expecting the answer to be a low sum - but he doesn't look concerned by it. He is a winged beast who is calling a giant eagle his wife. The idea that he might be rich should not be too far-fetched. Kreyu will pick up on his tone that this is merely fact-finding, but the Captain shouldn't.

He's right, the number the Captain gives isn't small. They COULD afford it, though they don't have that much ON them at the moment. Of course, there's always lying.

"We could pay on delivery," Kreyu adds. "That much in gold is heavy to carry through the air." She tilts her head. "Our home is north east from here, a day's sailing." NOT the direction where they came from, Kreyu must have another location in mind.

Skellig has no idea of what location she is mentioning, but he nods and is easily able to follow her lead.

"We have been looking for a decent lot for some time," he says. "The last few that we have come across have been disease ridden, sickly...one ship had three dead upon it, and then dared to ask why I was disgusted when I stepped below deck." He scoffs, rolls his eyes slightly as he moves closer to Kreyu. "I know you would like to see them yourself, love, but I assure you...they are in good health, so far as I can see."

"I am certain of your judgement, my love."

"You will do as my husband asks, if you are wise," she says, staring down at the Captain. "Or else I may grow impatient and devour you instead."

The Captain pales, clearly terrified.

Pale and terrified is a good thing - that means that they are likely to achieve their goals!

"Have your crew adjust course," he says, glancing back at the...mess...left on the deck from the earlier scuffle. "We would not object if you first wish to tend to your lost, but we would not like to linger."

In other words: tend to your dead, then get a move on.

As the Captain nods and the remaining crew begins to move, Skellig beckons for Kreyu to join him, walking along the edge of the ship away from the other men, to speak to her in private.

Kreyu flexes her talons one final time to make a POINT before she moves to join Skellig.

She speaks far too low for the men to hear. "You wished to speak to me, love?" She's keeping an eye on the Captain and crew, on the lookout for trouble.

Her chest looks like a plucked, burnt, chicken, but it could be worse. She reeks of burnt feathers, and there are second and perhaps some small third degree burns in that area of her chest. The pain is only really beginning to be bothersome NOW, thanks to the adrenaline fading.

Edited 2024-08-21 22:28 (UTC)

Skellig is also keeping an eye on those tasked with sailing the vessel, but his focus he finally allows to shift greater to her and her injuries, placing a hand on her (non-wounded) wing to allow himself contact. It is still a little strange, when she is in this shape of her soul, but she is familiar all the same...

"Now that we have a moment, I wanted to get a look at you," he says, voice equally hushed as he studies the burns on her chest, the scent of burnt feathers filling his nose. "I would heal you if you'd allow it, but I do not think I can replace the feathers..."

"A healing would be most welcome, my love." She chuckles. "The missing feathers will wound only my pride, and that I can deal with well enough."

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