by Trey Myr
Back under sail, I ordered the three extra Deckhands to keep watch around the Swift, and now that I knew why the wolves were so hard to locate, I kept the Boat to a much lower altitude and continued my journey. It still took me two more days to find the next group of beasts, but at least it was I who saw them first.
The four grasswolves were sneaking at a deer, and hadn’t noticed me sailing above them. With enough time to prepare, I had three of my Deckhands disembark and approach on foot, and cranked the arbalest. At three Deckhands versus four wolves, the beasts’ pack tactics were far less effective, and my Shapes managed to hold them off without taking any significant damage. Meanwhile, the Hawks were aiming at the wolves’ vulnerable eyes as I looked for an opportune shot. It wasn’t long into the combat before one of the warped landed badly after a Hawk attacked it mid-leap, and I took advantage of the couple of seconds it took to regain its balance to hit its flank with an arbalest bolt.
Once the first beast was down, the tide of battle was completely in my favor, as my Deckhands were a match for the wolves in one on one combat, and the assistance of the Hawks and my own shooting was more than enough to overwhelm them. I once again had the Deckhands syphon the vim from the dead beasts, and continued on my way without having to resort to my limited supply of arquebus ammunition.
The pair of flying lizards I ran across later that same day were far more annoying to deal with. The Deckhands proved to be almost completely inept at both piloting the Boat and aiming the arbalest, so I still didn’t have the ability to sail and shoot at the same time, and the reptilian beasts seemed to know that attacking from the bow was dangerous, and once again came from my flanks. I was better prepared for them this time and managed to hit the starboard attacker with my arquebus before it could complete its dive, but its mate came from the port quarter and wrecked the main sail, narrowly missing the mast. The attack, however, brought it to my starboard bow, and into the arbalest’s firing arc, and I hurried towards the weapon and managed to aim and fire before the winged creature recovered from its dive.
I didn’t have enough time to aim for a killing shot, but a bolt through the lizard’s wing was enough to ground it, which let my Deckhands finish the job. This was not going well for me though. On both of my battles against the flying beasts I had to resort to my arquebus and the Swift still took damage. And if the lizard’s dive was just a little more to port, it would have hit the mast, which would have had a decent chance to fall right on top of me. I considered just running away the next time I saw the lizards, but I was fairly sure they were faster than me and would catch me anyway.
What I really needed were more ranged attackers. Unfortunately, I could only think of two ways to get those attackers. I could go back to Gerald’s Rest and hire a few fighters. The town was close enough to the frontier that there were always scavengers and hunters around, and I was sure one or two of them would be willing to hire on. The problem was that I’d have to pay them, which would mean less time searching for vim and more time searching for gold. I’d also have to trust them enough to bring them onboard the Swift, and I never took the time to socialize with my so-called colleagues. After all, a fellow scavenger would not be the one to buy my haul or sell me supplies, and was more than likely to try and follow me to discover my best scavenging locations.
My second option was to get new Shapes. The Forresters didn’t have anything that would help me, but I knew of at least one noble family with access to an Archer Pattern. It’d mean taking a couple of weeks off of hunting, and would cost me more gold than hiring some hunters, but it would be a one-time cost and wouldn’t compromise me.
In the end, the Swift was the one to solve my problem. I’d stopped noticing it at some point, but the Boat was still taking its cut out of any vim the Deckhands syphoned, and apparently it accumulated enough to make some changes. The repairs to the sails were just about done and I was going to continue on my way when I noticed that a ladder had appeared next to the entrance to the aft cabin, and a railing on the roof. I left my place at the wheel to check the new additions and saw that the Boat was just putting the finishing touches on another arbalest.
When the new weapon was complete, I checked its mount and found that it covered an arc ranging from one wing sail to the other, and that between the old fore arbalest and the new aft weapon, I could fully cover the approaches to the Swift, except from below.
The only problem was that I still didn’t have anyone to man the arbalests, and it wouldn’t be feasible for me to run to the aft weapon in case of an aerial attack. Which meant that I needed to rank up my Deckhands as soon as possible.
Two more days later, I was starting to get really frustrated. I’d had a run of bad luck and couldn’t locate any more wolves, while at the same time the flying lizards seemed almost drawn to me. I was down to ten arquebus shots, and still didn’t have enough vim to rank up a Deckhand without dropping below the two I needed to run the Swift.
I pointed the Swift in the direction of the border, planning on heading back to Gerald’s Rest and restocking on blast crystal and arquebus balls, and then heading towards the city of Whitecliff, home to the White family, where I hoped I could buy access to their Archer Pattern, since remaining in the wilds until I had the vim for two ranked up Deckhands was proving to be too dangerous.
I was about a day’s sail away from the border when I saw a battle taking place in the distance. I couldn’t see precisely who the combatants were, but both sides were clearly human. Or humanoid, at least, since the clouds of steam that covered the battle hinted at the presence of dwarven weaponry.
Chapter 6 - Dwarves
The closer I got to the battle, the more details I could see. I could see a dozen humans wearing mismatched pieces of armor and wielding random weapons trying to overwhelm three dwarves. Unlike the haphazard nature of the raiders’ armaments, the dwarves were wearing high quality leather armor and were armed with heavy steam cannons.
Dwarves were thought to be warped humans, and were all fire aligned. They averaged a meter and twenty centimeters tall, and tended towards being wide and stocky. Stronger and more durable than humans, dwarves would have been deadly fighters even without their preferred weaponry. Only a dwarf could operate a steam cannon, since they used their fire vim to heat the water and produce the steam needed to fire them.
Heavier and bulkier than my own arquebus, the steam cannons were capable of a far higher rate of fire and didn’t rely on blast crystal ammunition, which made them feasible as primary weapons.
Three armed dwarves should have been able to hold their own when fighting against twelve human raiders, but from the looks of it, the humanoids have been caught unprepared and while one of them was shooting at their attackers as fast as he could load his weapon, the other two were still in the process of putting their weapons’ large water tanks on their backs. The single battle ready dwarf was taking heavy fire from a trio of raiders armed with a sling, a shortbow and what looked like a blow gun, and was unable to return fire since he was trying to keep the raiders’ melee fighters away from his companions.
I hadn’t meant to fight any raiders on this journey, but I’d heard enough stories about what they’d do to the dwarves if they managed to capture them that I wasn’t about to abandon them. Neither of the sides took any notice of me as I closed in from above, and I was soon within arbalest range. I dropped off three of my Deckhands and ordered them to charge and sent the Hawks to harass the enemy archers.
I was loading the arbalest as fast as I could when I saw the slinger launch a stone directly at the dwarf’s head, staggering him. A second later he was hit by a dart, and I could almost immediately see that he was losing his balance and swaying drunkenly. Whatever poison was delivered by the dart, the dwarf was unable to aim properly, and his previously precise shots were missing his targets more often than not.
I fired my arbalest at a large club-wielding raider a moment before he could brain the poisoned dwarf, and the battle stopped for a
few seconds as both sides turned to look at me. The two remaining dwarves were the first to shake off the surprise, and took advantage of the raiders’ distraction to finish setting up their weapons. A lead ball tearing through the slinger’s chest brought an end to the quiet, and the raiders charged at their enemies with renewed rage. My Deckhands weren’t close enough to attack yet, but my Hawks were both attacking the archer, who had stopped aiming at the dwarves and was now trying to hit the flying Shapes that were tormenting him.
The two dwarves were firing rapidly at their attackers, and the raiders were falling one after the other. I was beginning to think that the battle would be over before I could reload the arbalest when another dwarf was hit by a dart, leaving the third to face the remaining raiders alone. The dwarf was holding his ground, seemingly unwilling to abandon his companions, the first of whom was now completely unconscious. He was still shooting fast enough that the raiders couldn’t get close, but I knew that he’d exhaust his vim long before he could take them all out. Fortunately for the dwarf, my Deckhands were close enough to attack by then, and the raiders had to split their attention between the dwarf and my Shapes. I fired another bolt at the blowgun wielding raider just as he was aiming at the dwarf, and one of my Deckhands stabbed the distracted archer a second later. Now lacking in ranged support, the raiders were being driven back by the dwarf and my other Deckhands, and it wasn’t long before the remaining three humans threw down their weapons and ran away.
The dwarf took a couple of steps in the retreating raiders’ direction before shaking his head and turning to see to his poisoned companions. As I sailed closer to him, however, he stood back up and looked in my direction. The steam cannon’s muzzle, which was starting to rise in my direction, dropped down from suddenly slack hands as its owner stood staring at the Swift. A few seconds later, the dwarf abruptly took of his leather helmet.
Her leather helmet, since no male dwarf would ever shave off his beard. Thick flame-blue hair caught in a tight braid dropped from the helmet, its yellow shaded tip reaching almost to the ground. Bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity under bushy blue eyebrows, and a wide mouth was stretched into an ‘O’ under a sharp nose. Her face was oval shaped and wider than normal for a human and yet attractive in an exotic way, and made even more so by her obvious wonder at the sight of the flying Boat.
“You have a flying boat! How do you have a flying boat? What makes it fly? How does…” She caught herself and took a deep breath. “Please forgive me. My name is Marjory, daughter of Meredith. Thank you for your help, Captain?”
“Jack. Jack Baker,” I answered, bemused at the rapid fire questions and the more sedate follow up. “But please, let’s leave the pleasantries for later and take care of your companions first.”
“Thank you.”
I got off the Swift and closer to the unconscious dwarves. There didn’t seem to be much wrong with them, physically. The first one must have been caught without his helmet, and the sling shot raised a nasty bruise over his forehead, but dwarves were tough enough that he probably wouldn’t have any lasting effects from the blow. The poison was a much bigger threat, however, and I took one of the darts and sniffed it to see if I recognized it.
“Widowcap,” I snarled at the familiar, sickly sweet smell. The poisonous mushroom was very common in one of the ruins I’d explored before, and I’d learned to recognize and hate its smell. “I’m sorry, Marjory. They won’t wake up without treatment, and if they were human they’d stop breathing in a week or so. I’m not sure how it would affect a dwarf, but I don’t like their chances without a trained healer.”
She sat down on the ground abruptly. “We’re weeks away from the closest town, even if they could walk.” I could see tears in her eyes, and it was obvious she was struggling not to cry.
“I’m on my way to Gerald’s Rest, and should be there in about three days. I could take you there.”
I have no idea how she managed to move so fast with the heavy steam cannon still on her back, but she was up and hugging me almost before I finished the sentence.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” She was talking so fast her words were almost unintelligible. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost my brothers!”
I held her awkwardly for a few more seconds, and then she straightened up and seemed to pull herself back together. I had the Deckhands carry her unconscious brothers on board the Swift and settled them in the hold. When I got back up on deck, Marjory was back to a state of wonder at the flying Boat. She had discarded her steam cannon, and was leaning over the starboard railing and looking and the wing sail. I took my place behind the wheel and brought the Boat up.
“This is absolutely wonderful!” The dwarf shouted. “What is making them beat that way? I didn’t see any mechanism for it!”
“I have no idea,” I answered. “It just does.”
“So what’s a guy with a flying Boat need from Gerald’s Rest?” she asked while still looking at the wing sail. “I’ve never been there, but it’s supposed to be a real small town, isn’t it?”
“It is. But I need blast crystal for my arquebus, and I know someone there who will sell it to me for a reasonable price.”
“Silly weapons, those arquebuses of yours. Steam cannons are much more reliable.”
“Sure, but I don’t have the fire vim to use one even if I could get a dwarf to sell it to me. And I really need the ranged option, since I don’t have anyone to man the arbalests while I’m at the wheel. I plan on getting some Archer Shapes from Whitecliff after I finish up in Gerald’s Rest.”
“Hmph,” she snorted derisively. “Not nearly as good as a steam cannon.”
We sailed for a few more minutes in silence before I suddenly heard Marjory shriek from behind me.
“What are you doing? Give it back! Let go let go let go!”
I turned around to see what was going on, and saw the dwarf pulling at the straps of her steam cannon, which had started sinking into the deck of the Swift. “What’s going on?”
“Your boat is eating my cannon! Make it let go!”
I ran towards the dwarf and tried to help her pull, while ordering the Swift to release the weapon. All to no avail. Within a minute, the steam cannon had sunk all the way into the deck, leaving us with nothing to hold onto.
“Why did your boat eat my cannon?” Marjory grabbed my coat and demanded of me. “For that matter, how did your boat eat my cannon?”
“I… I don’t know!” I tried to pry her hands loose, but she was much stronger than me. “It’s never done this before. I mean, it reacted to what I wanted in a way, but never like this.”
“It shouldn’t be reacting at all! It’s made of wood, blast it. Wood doesn’t flow around and change like this!”
“Except that she’s not really made of wood,” I answered. “It’s Shaped vim. She can repair herself, and she seems to have at least a limited ability to modify things.”
“A Shape?” the dwarf let me go abruptly and turned around to look at the Swift in wonder. “This whole thing is a Shape?”
She produced a small hand axe from somewhere and hacked at the closest railing, then stood and watched closely as the Boat repaired herself.
“Please don’t attack the Swift, Marjory.”
“The blasted thing just stole my cannon. Least it can do is satisfy my curiosity a little.” She didn’t move from the railing until it was completely whole, without a trace of any damage. “This is amazing. If my people knew that you could have Shapes that aren’t animals maybe more of us would try to be Shapers. At least if we could guarantee that they not steal our stuff. And did you say it modified itself earlier?”
“Yeah. It added the aft arbalest just a couple of days ago.” I pointed in the direction of the cabin and the weapon mounted on top of it, only to see that the arbalest was gone, and in the process of being replaced by a larger version of Marjory’s cannon.
The dwarf had turned to look at the weapon, and was climbing
the ladder before I could even finish the sentence. By the time I managed to catch up with her, she was running her hands wonderingly over the cannon. “This is definitely my cannon. I built it myself and I’d recognize it anywhere. You heard me, didn’t you, you naughty boat? You heard that my cannon was better than your weapons and wanted it for yourself!”
“In the Swifts’s defense, I’d been thinking about my lack of weaponry for the past week or so.”
“You know you can’t actually use it, right? You don’t have any fire vim to heat the tank.”
By that time, the cannon was complete and it was obvious that the Swift made it the precise height for Marjory to operate.
“It’s finished now,” I told the dwarf, “and I have a feeling I can make it return it to its regular size and let it go. It was just impossible to stop the process while it was happening.”
“I want a place in the hold for myself with a decent bed, and I’ll take a half share of whatever profits you make.”
“Huh?”
“It’s obvious that I’m your new gunner. A place to sleep and work and half share.”
I'd spent enough time in the Boar and Barrel to overhear more than enough sailor conversations to understand that with a single crew member, a half share would translate to about a fifth of the Boat's profits.
It would certainly cut into my own profits, but the Swift was already making a new hatch down to what I just knew would be a small cabin in the hold, which didn’t really leave me much of a choice. And I had to admit that a dwarf gunner would neatly solve almost all of my current weaponry problems.
“Welcome aboard, Gunner Marjory,” I offered her a hand which she shook enthusiastically.
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