The Dragon's Wrath: Shadows in the Flame (10 page)

My goal wasn’t to force a conversation before the opposite party was ready. She was hungry and thirsty but not in the mood to talk. That was fine with me, eventually she would warm up. That was my bet for now… like a stray, wary yet starving, cautious to approach but willing to risk it all in a moment’s weakness to acquire what it needs.

In time, the stray will grow accustomed to you.

Then one day, the stray might let you touch it and from there, the relationship is to be decided by the parties involved. Once the door was opened and the trust was built, it was only a matter of time. That was for animals of course.

People were animals though.

At least in my mind, we were all animals.

Heading up the stairs it was time to call it a night. Roald had entered the bar not more than five minutes before which meant the trades were successful. Everything that needed to be done in this port town had now been taken care of.

Retiring early in the night wasn’t a bad idea anyways for tomorrow was the second raid on FWB. Adequate rest and a clear mind would be necessary for the mission as we were operating with far fewer numbers this time around.

Two crack teams, five members each. Two sailors and a trader onboard. Plus a slightly crazy MC. It was going to be a good day, I could tell.

Vengeance was in the air.

I could smell it.

Chapter 83: The Raid Pt. 2

(Saturday, December 4th Game Day / Saturday, April 24th Real Day)

Shadows in the moonlight

for a little while more,

the ocean breeze

would soon carry us ashore.

Yet to make way

for the morning rays,

here I play

with melodic phrase.

Humming and drumming

for the second coming,

it was prime time

for a consonant rhyme.

Yet with nothing more

to save me from a snore,

I found it a chore,

to not be a bore.

“Ahhh,” I whispered to myself as I stared out at the moon.

Lying with back against pack onboard ship, the darkness of the early morning had done little to relieve me of my boredom. The doldrums out on the open ocean with nary a thing to do had taken its toll, with my mind strained from its attempt to entertain itself.

After all, all save for Eindride were lost to the dream.

Less I be lost to it too, the necessity for rudimentary rhymes to keep my mind afloat had arisen in this murky sea of inactivity. These calm moments before the storm seemed to be of too regular an occurrence as we had become numb to the transition. Waiting only for the light to switch us from the dream state to an active one, we were the definition of seasoned… far too experienced.

Far too relaxed.

The mission had lost all sense of tension.

Thankfully the sun was no more than a minute away as it would soon peek out over the eastern mountain range’s ridges and give us its greetings. Seldom did one shy away from the light, even if it would give us away on the horizon. The end result would be the same regardless for the second raid was unlike the first.

The second coming was less a raid than it was a drive-by. There would be no need to stop the ship this time around. There was hardly even reason to disembark. Save for the defenses that had been planted along the water’s edge in order to halt our advance, FWB’s defenses were considerably lackluster. They prepared for a second attack, shored up their weaknesses by blocking their shores.

Downed trees piled high at the coastal edge of the premises, denying any river passage either in or out so long as one came from the sea. Then there was the secondary log pile formed on the eastern side, but that one failed to measure up to the western ocean wall.

Sitting inside their homes, behind their walls with an obstructed river that would prove difficult to pass, they believed in the security that the daylight permitted them. What they had failed to realize though, was that logs were easy to move.

We were experienced log-movers.

And I was an excellent swimmer.

Turning up the mouth of the river some ten miles south of FWB’s location, we would utilize the network of interconnecting rivers to circle back towards the east and then north until we reached the desired path. A detour of maybe an hour at most, the alternate route provided us with a westerly course that would carry us straight through the village and out into the open ocean with no need to slow or halt our pace.

The trees along the river bend would also serve to mask our ship’s presence until the signal was raised. This was the second raid and this raid would be carried out during the daylight hours. If my timing and planning played out, it would be primetime… noon on a Saturday morning. High-activity time, filled with the majority of the guild’s members.

This was a daring raid.

Yeah, this was my raid.

The snowy white fields and forests along the way showed little signs of life as we passed on by, silent except for the soft creaking of the wooden oars rubbing on their oar holes. Careful not to disturb anything more out of practice than of necessity, we continued on as we watched the occasional rabbit poke its head up in curiosity.

Basking in the warmth of the morning sunlight, we took the time to stretch our legs and eat our fill of the specialty hardtack that we brought with us. Thankfully the ones we picked up from the port town weren’t quite as rock-hard as they could have been and were made with salted pork, onion, whey, barley, and wheat.

At least, that’s what I was told by the man selling them.

Still a hard chew, they were at least somewhat tasty and the flavor did seem to represent the ingredients listed. An affordable meal replacement that would last us days, weeks, or months if needed. Certainly far better than standard hardtack for long voyages, have that a few times and one starts to appreciate the basic meals all the more.

And then by the time we had all finished our meals the time had come to put the next step of the plan into motion. Coming to a complete stop, we beached the ship by the edge of the forest line and checked twice to ensure that the ship remained successfully concealed. Beyond the trees and less than two miles to the west was our destination.

The target was there.

As I began to undress with only a pair of primitive Dark Age trousers serving as my swimming trunks, I couldn’t help but notice the small trail of smoke coming from the center of the village. Most likely the village’s bonfire… it would soon be joined by one more trail. Utilizing [Keen Sight] I could clearly see at least a dozen players walking about around the outskirts of the village, busy bodies no doubt working on some project.

They would have to be monitored as I made my way but they were few enough in number and relatively far from the river that I wasn’t discouraged. So long as they weren’t in the river or on it, then I would be fine.

Nodding at the men as I was ready to proceed, I rolled backwards off the boat and into the relatively shallow icy waters of the slow moving river with ease. Hitting the water sent a shock throughout my body as the air nearly escaped my lungs in reaction but with the clock already burning I ignored it and began my two-mile swim.

Keeping my body roughly parallel with the waterline but slightly below it with the majority of my head under water as well, I stayed in the sidestroke position as I utilized scissor kicks along with it. Only breaking the surface of the water partially with my face to breathe, the combat swimmer stroke offered an excellent combination of speed and stealth in addition to being less taxing on the body in terms of distance and effort.

Using a breaststroke to cross the two mile distance was out of the question, seeing how it involved much larger muscle groups in both the chest and back. The amount of energy that stroke required was probably at least double that of the CSS. Freestyle on the other hand was faster but was hardly stealthy with all of the splashing and that was the last thing that I needed.

My objective was to reach the edge of the village undetected in the middle of the day with the sun shining directly above. The center of the river was relatively deep and dark at around eight feet and allowed me an opportunity to dive if by chance an enemy combatant happened to wander nearby.

Roughly twenty feet across at its widest, this river was actually of fairly good size as well. That meant the logs blocking our path would most likely be full-sized trees, possibly cut down to size but probably not.

Gliding through the water on rough four-counts with the current aiding me the entire way, the nearly two-mile swim took less than thirty minutes as I began to slow my pace. Having neared the village sooner than expected, I kept my body underwater while risking a peek at the surrounding players.

Thirty feet out from the village walls, two players or NPCs were fishing along the shore while the rest of the roamers had stayed by the outskirts, assembling what looked to be a tower. Without a shadow to hide under, the only option going forward was to dive to the murkier bottom and hope that the fishermen weren’t staring directly at my path.

Taking a deep breath and diving towards the bottom, I turned face-up as my back gently brushed against the relatively smooth rocks that littered the riverbed. Eyes blurred by the water and the refracting sunlight that lightly pierced through it, I remained still as the current pushed me along.

Watching for the shadows of the two men, a fishing hook brushed against my shoulder as the current pushed me downstream and away from the danger. Ten feet past the fishermen, I slowly ascended to the surface to take a breath and began to survey the location once more.

Fifteen feet away sat a pile of logs, easily thirty feet across with an end on either end of the riverbank. It was a simple structure of round logs laid down on top of another as a way to bar entry. A literal bar across the water’s surface, as the underside was left unobstructed. The river passed freely beneath the logs and only boats were denied.

Voices could be heard all around me as I quietly inspected the logs to try and figure out the best way to disable or remove them. Then the thought occurred to me that the best way would be the natural way. Far too many in number to pick up individually and carry without being noticed, all one had to do was shift them slightly and wait for them to fall into the river. If rolled properly, they would simply float downstream.

We used this method to move logs in the North, as they do in real life much the same. A simple method that could be carried out by one superhuman individual.

That was the plan for now, at least for the eastern wall.

Ducking under the logs and moving inside the village while staying as low as I possibly could, I swam along the bottom of the river to the other side and began to inspect the ocean wall that they had assembled.

This one was far larger but had been constructed in the same fashion with little holding it together except for two logs angled sideways as a brace, letting the weight of the logs that had been piled on top of each other in a pyramid fashion take care of the rest.

Resting with my body concealed underneath the log structure and head hiding behind the cracks, I watched as a few players and NPCs walked by. Conversations about their days reached my ears. They talked of their hunting plans, their dungeon plans, and even about their settlement plans. All those plans… and yet none of them would likely happen. Not in the way they were imagining it to happen, at the very least.

The cold water was starting to get to me as I regained my composure and took a few shallow breaths. I needed to manage my breathing so as not to become overexcited in this situation with my heart already wanting to pound from the anticipation.

Hiding under a shadow beneath the ripples of the river water, unnoticed and alone in a hostile territory filled with dozens of natural enemies, everything had been routine up until now. But now it was time to enact the second stage of the operation.

It was time to give the signal.

Diving back down to the bottom of the river, I made my way against the current and towards the eastern wall, in the direction of my boat hidden two miles out behind the curtain of brown, green, and white. Easily beating the weak current I stopped at the pile of logs with only one thing on my mind. The torches that had been left unlit every twenty feet or so and attached to the top of the walls were what I would use.

One torch on the southern side of the river would be lit.

The smoke would do the rest.

Looking at the torch I was quickly dismayed and disturbed by the presence of a man, clearly an NPC that had wandered over to the water’s edge. A fisherman… hoping to use the log wall as a resting spot to fish from.

On the inside of the village’s walls and directly in the way as I needed a clear path to light the torch, he was an obstacle. Standing where he was, my path was blocked and even if I could manage to sneak around him the act of lighting the torch would draw unneeded attention if not surely give me away.

Without a weapon due to the glint of metal possibly giving up my position beneath the surface, the only weapons were my bare hands and the body of water that I resided in. The use of lightning was strictly prohibited as the ensuing thunder would damn it all.

Lurking beneath the shadow of the logs I waited with breath held. In the shallow depths of the river, my face staring up at the man that was oblivious to what was to come, I waited for him to turn. His hands and eyes preoccupied with the wooden rod and the fixing of his lure, he continued to fiddle as he began to look for his bait stored in a crude tackle bag perched on top of the wood.

As he turned his face slightly away and with shoulder now pointed to the side, I moved. Hands gripping the lowest log, I pulled myself up in a near instant as I simultaneously yanked on the man’s waist. Grabbing him with an arm while quickly throwing my free hand out to reach around his face, I clasped tightly around his mouth as I twisted and turned on the log and slid back into the water in relative silence.

The entire movement was over in a second as the only sign of struggle above the surface was a small wave from the displaced water. Beneath the water’s surface though the man was fighting for his life as I wrapped him up from behind and began to wrestle with his mouth. There was no need for technique as the man had been caught off guard and without an understanding for his situation, his frantic clawing and kicking to reach the surface was of little use.