Authors: Ben Cassidy
They had just exited the harbor. The ship was just passing the breakwater.
“Hey!” a nearby sailor shouted as he reached for a cutlass, “what do you think—?”
Kendril turned and slammed his clenched fist into the surprised man’s face.
There was a shout from up on the quarterdeck, then a shrill whistle.
Kendril snatched the cutlass out of the unconscious man’s belt. He whirled back around.
Abid emerged from below decks. He wasn’t smiling.
A scream sounded from down below. It wasn’t Marley. Someone else….
Kendril took a step forward and raised the cutlass.
There was a ghostly shriek from below the deck.
Abid hesitated, his scimitar poised in his hand.
There was another scream. It was Marley this time.
There was a horrific crash, and the large cargo doors set into the deck buckled and cracked.
Kendril swayed, almost losing his footing.
Abid grabbed onto one the main mast to steady himself.
One of the sailors shouted something. Another one actually threw himself overboard into the water.
Kendril planted his feet.
The bestial shriek sounded again, hardly muted by the deck boards of the vessel.
What in Zanthora did they have down there?
A sailor ran at Kendril, a knife in his hand.
Kendril turned to meet the attack.
It never came.
Something slammed into the underside of the ship’s cargo doors again.
With a roar of shattering wood and wrecked beams the doors tore apart.
Something massive came up and launched into the air. Wings, longer than the width of the ship, unfurled like dark banners to each side. Something dropped and landed with a wet thud on the deck.
A quick glance was enough to tell Kendril that it was the remains of the robed man.
With a hideous screech Reianu’s Blessing flapped into the night sky.
Kendril stood rooted to the spot, genuinely shocked. He had only had a quick glance of the beast, but that had been enough to send his mind spinning.
It wasn’t a bird. It was…
what was it
?
“
Fire
!” One of the sailors bellowed.
Kendril snapped his head around.
In all the confusion one of the lanterns had broken apart on the deck. Burning oil was already leaping across the shattered remains of the deck boards.
The sailor who had attacked Kendril with the knife stood staring up into the sky.
Recovering his wits and his senses, Kendril cut the man down before he could move.
A whistling shriek sounded through the air. It was awful, the sound of a creature that defied all reason and logic.
A shadow swept across the black sky, blotting out the stars as it moved.
Kendril flinched, shielding his face from the growing flames.
The creature was on the hunt.
Kendril turned.
Abid came at him. His scimitar flashed in the firelight as it swept through the air.
Kendril brought his own blade up instinctively to block the blow. Even still the force of the impact knocked him back several steps.
Abid grunted and hammered down his scimitar again.
Kendril blocked the blow again. The blade of his scimitar rang from the hit. The weapon seemed paltry in comparison to that of Abid’s.
Marley shouted something from down through the massive rent in the ship’s deck.
Kendril ignored the cry, focused on the desperate battle he was in.
Abid moved in to strike again.
There was a blur of movement through the air. A shadow flitted over the deck, followed by a stench of rotting flesh.
One of the sailors vanished from sight. He screamed, but his cry was cut off abruptly.
Abid craned his neck around to see the man’s fate.
Kendril slammed his shoulder into the huge man.
It was a good hit, one that would have sent an ordinary man flying backwards.
Abid only stumbled back a few steps.
A sailor leapt over the side of the ship. Another one was babbling an incoherent prayer.
A shriek sounded from somewhere above them again.
Eru, but it was
fast
.
Abid loosened the whip on his belt with his free hand.
Kendril braced his feet and readied his weapon. His blade was notched from the blows of Abid’s scimitar.
Abid uncoiled his whip and smiled. His teeth flashed in the light of the raging fire.
There was a tearing crash, and the ship suddenly lurched violently to one side.
Everyone fell, crashing to the deck like falling nine-pins.
Kendril staggered up and looked wildly around.
The breakwater.
In all the confusion the ship had slammed right into it.
She was stuck right on it. No doubt she was taking in water.
There was a sharp
crack
, and Kendril felt the scimitar start to leap from his grip. He was surprised, but tried his best to keep his sweaty hold on the weapon.
It was no use. The cutlass flew out of his hand and went clattering across the deck.
Abid snapped his whip back for another blow.
Kendril backed up. He instinctively reached for his holster. Empty, of course.
He had no weapon.
Great.
Abid snapped the whip.
Kendril lurched to the side, trying his best to make himself a hard target.
He was rewarded by a stinging bite to his arm. The whip coiled around his forearm like a serpent.
Abid pulled back on his whip with a snarl.
Before Kendril could react he was launched forward, yanked off balance by the whip. He hit hard on his stomach, the wind knocked out of him for a moment. Smoke stung his eyes, the cries of fleeing sailors filled his ears. His arms throbbed with pain. Blood was already staining his sleeve.
Abid smiled again, white teeth shining in the firelight like pale ghosts. The blade of his scimitar shimmered and flashed orange and red.
Oh, well. At least Kendril would be killed by a man who obviously enjoyed his work. It was hard to ask for more than that.
Abid pulled hard on the whip.
Kendril was dragged forward a few feet, gaining not a few splinters in the process.
Abid’s scimitar lifted high, poised for a killing blow.
Reianu’s Blessing appeared out of the darkness, right behind Abid. It was sailing towards the ship at full speed, its bat-like wings stretched out to each side.
Even this close to his impending death, Kendril couldn’t help but be awe-struck at the sight. He had witnessed the Void opening in the heart of Vorten itself, but
this
…this was something else entirely, some kind of flesh and blood creature of this world, yet so hideous and so alien that Kendril had no frame of reference in which to place it. Impossibly huge, more reptilian than bird-like, with a vile stench, membranous wings, and horse-like head with something that looked like a beak but that sparkled with saw-like teeth.
And the eyes. Those wretched, soul-numbing eyes that were devoid of humanity or reason, burning like dull red embers.
The mouth of the creature opened. A shrill, screeching wail flooded the air.
Kendril’s blood ran cold. He felt paralyzed, his eyes fastened on the terrifying monster.
Abid’s smile disappeared. He whirled around.
The flying creature slammed into the main mast of the ship.
Abid gave a cry and leapt to one side.
Several of the sailors screamed in fright.
From the direction of the shoreline came several distant shouts. A bell began to clang.
Kendril forced his aching body to get up. He got his feet under him, trying to keep his balance on the shifting deck.
From above came the tearing sound of wood snapping.
Kendril glanced up.
The creature screamed. The sound of its cry drowned out all other noise for a moment. It tore at the mast with its claws. The moon shone through its bat wings as they flapped repeatedly. Its long tail lashed back and forth in a serpentine motion.
With a final
crack
the main mast shattered in two.
Kendril threw himself to one side as the mass of sails and wood came hurtling down onto the deck.
There was a loud crash, and Kendril’s world turned white.
Literally, white. One of the sails had fallen on him.
Kendril tore his way out of the rigging and sailcloth, kicking a burning piece of wood away and trying his best to ignore his bleeding arm. The whip was still lashed around it.
He got to his feet.
The creature was circling around far up in the sky, out past the breakwater and over the open sea.
From the shore came a rattle of musketry, a dozen flashes and bangs as well as a few humming crossbow bolts.
Abid staggered to his feet, shaking his head. The whip was still in his hand.
Kendril gritted his teeth. He grabbed the whip from his end, braced his feet, then pulled with all his might.
Still off-balance, Abid lurched towards Kendril, the whip handle held tight in his hand. He twisted around and tried in vain to bring up his scimitar.
“Goes both ways,” Kendril grunted. He brought his fist straight into Abid’s face.
It was like punching a brick wall.
Abid’s head snapped back. He slowly twisted his face back around.
Regnuthu take him, the man was
smiling
again.
Kendril stepped back, panting. His hand stabbed with pain.
Abid dropped the handle of his whip. His free hand shot out like a bolt of lightning.
The blow took Kendril in the side of the face. He crashed back onto the deck, sliding until he hit the railing on the starboard side.
Abid spat on the deck, heedless of the fire spreading all around him. He came forward again with the scimitar in both hands.
So much for being the Demonbane of Vorten. This was just getting embarrassing.
Hoping he still had all his teeth, Kendril raise his arm, his hand still clenched on the receiving end of the whip.
Abid paused, uncertainty crossing his face.
Kendril snapped his arm, lashing the bull hide handle of the whip around Abid’s legs.
Admittedly, it wasn’t the greatest move in the world. Indeed, Kendril was fairly certain that no one had ever conceived of a whip being used
backwards
. To be fair, however, he had no other weapon at hand, and he was about as desperate as it was possible to get.
Abid snarled. He tried to kick the entangled whip off his legs.
Kendril let go of the whip, and shook the end of it off his bleeding arm.
Abid stamped and lashed at the whip like it was a live snake. He got himself free, then looked back up at Kendril.
No more fists. Kendril was done with that approach. Time for something more sensible.
Kendril leapt forward. He snatched a belaying pin out of the pin rail surrounding the base of the broken mast. The weight of the wooden object felt good in his hand. He gave a fierce swing at Abid’s head.
There was a flash of metal as the man’s scimitar came up to block Kendril’s attack.
Metal met wood with a low
thunk
.
Kendril jumped back, nearly tripping over a smoldering pile of rope. His belaying pin was severely gouged.
Lovely.
Abid swung his scimitar at Kendril’s head.
Kendril parried with the belaying pin.
The scimitar chopped right through the wooden pin. The top half clattered to the deck.
Well,
ashes.
Kendril hurled the remaining stub of the belaying pin at Abid’s face.
Smiling, the giant man leapt nimbly to one side.
The pin spun off into the darkness.
And so now Kendril had no weapon at all. Not that he had ever really had one to start with.
Abid took a step forward, still grinning ferociously.
Kendril backed up, ducking away from a fiercely burning piece of sail.
An unearthly shriek tore across the entire deck.
Stunned, Abid and Kendril both snapped their heads to the side at the same time.
The monstrous creature was back, its wings unfurled and its slavering mouth open wide. The moonlight glinted off its teeth and talons. It was soaring right over the water of the bay, coming straight at the deck of the ship.
Right
. In all the confusion Kendril had almost forgotten all about Reianu’s Blessing.
Kendril hurled himself to one side. He hit the deck and rolled.
Abid screamed.
A shape swooped over the deck. Black shadow, rushing wind. Fetid, foul stench.
Kendril glanced up.
Abid was pinioned between the monster’s jaw-like beak, waving his scimitar and screaming wildly.
The next moment the beast was gone, vanished into the hazy darkness over the edge of the breakwater.
Kendril stood to his feet, wobbling slightly. He shook his head.
Easy come, easy go.
He turned back to the deck.
Fire was raging along the bow of the vessel. Fallen masts and rigging covered more than half the deck, and were contributing to the rampant flames. The center of the main deck was torn completely open like some gaping wound.
Kendril frowned. None of the crew was in sight. All were either dead or fleeing.
So ended the mad dreams of that priest of Reianu, whatever his name had been. Honestly, Kendril didn’t really care.
But that nightmarish creature of his was still loose.
Kendril turned back towards the quarterdeck, his eyes stinging from the smoke.
“Help me! Please, help!”
Kendril turned his head at the plea.
Marley was over by the stairs, trapped under a fallen piece of yard and a stretch of billowing sail.
Kendril rolled his eyes, then ran over to the man. “Are you hurt?”
Marley shook his head. “No, not bad. It caught the side of the railing. It’s just got my right leg pinned. I can’t—”
“Never mind,” Kendril said with irritation. He grabbed at the yard, heaving on it with all his might. “Come on, Marley, push for Eru’s sake!”
The older man grunted, his arms braced against the yardarm from the other side.