(Josie Sayz: This is a story of mine that I started writing several years ago, and I finally got around to editing it. It is based off a MERP_UK game that an old friend (Kevin) and I started working on together. The game got lost very early on and will never be revived. I originally wrote the story for the old friend that I was working on the game with, however, as I know he will never get to read it, as we are no longer friends, I am quite proud of it. I’m finally over the emotional attachment and am ready to edit my story and share it.)
Moonstone Fortress
Saviour of Ships
Prologue - The Blackout
The ground trembled. Mops, brooms and buckets clattered to the floor. A distant whistling grew louder. The beating inside howled at his chest. He held his breath. Bang. His heart whirled into his stomach. Everything flew portside. Throwing his hands out, he lost his balance. He winced. Pain shot up his left arm, as he slammed into the wall. He rolled onto his back. The table slid towards him. He snapped his eyes tight. Whack. Seeping a breath through gritted teeth, he threw a hand to his intestines. His chin dropped to his chest. With a grunt, he heaved the table away. Sliding down the wall, he threw both hands to his stomach and groaned.
Wood cracked. He gasped. The drumming inside of him raced. Blood pounded in his ears. His hands trembled. The ground rocked, throwing everything back starboard. He was tossed across the room, crashing into a stack of barrels. He clenched his nails into his palms, as the impact washed over him.
Footsteps thundered on the deck above. Bellowed orders and yells of panic wailed through the cracks in the wood. His heart crashed against his ribcage. ‘It couldn’t be,’ he told himself, ‘It just couldn’t.’ Curling himself into a ball, he buried his face into his knees. He had not expected this. Never would he have expected this. This was not what he had signed up for.
Pounding boomed through his brain. It grew louder. Louder. The door rattled. Something beat against it, on the other side. His eyes pierced open. His insides swirled around in a circumbendibus. Throwing one hand to his stomach, he punched his other fist to the ground. Pushing himself to his knees, he staggered to his feet. The thumping grew louder. His chest jittered, as his hand trembled towards the doorknob.
The latch clicked. A mane of white curls shoved its face into his. The captain. “All men on deck,” growled the man.
‘Oh no,’ he cried to himself. His heart raged in his ribcage. His hands shook. He swallowed. ‘This was not part of the plan,’ he gasped, clawing his nails into his palms. ‘This was not part of the plan at all.’ Swallowing the lump in his throat, he followed after the older gentleman.
The tail of the man’s navy justacorps billowed out as he mounted the stairs. Cries and shouts grew louder. Feet scurried across the deck. His ears pricked up. Whistling grew louder. Boom! Another explosion. The ground shifted portside. He staggered into the banister. Gripping his feathered tricorn hat, securing his powdered wig in place, the captain turned back towards him. “Quickly!” he bellowed, jabbing a finger up the stairs. “Peter, help them man the Long Tom.”
“But-” stammered the cabin-boy.
“Now!” roared the captain, wide eyed.
Staggering up the stairs, Peter stumbled onto the deck. Blurs of blue raced from right to left, clambered up ropes and fired shots over the gunwale. His heart hammered. “Fire!” came a throaty cry from the portside. He gasped. The ship tremored. Footsteps paced the deck. “Again!” ordered the voice. “Ready… aim… fire!” The ship shuddered again. Stumbling forwards, Peter’s mouth dropped open. They were under attack.
Across the water, from them, lay a ship much larger than their own. Triple masted, double decked, a black flag. ‘Could it be?’ wondered the cabin-boy. ‘Are they pirates?’ More than twenty gunned portholes pointed in their direction. Sails flapped. Shouts and screams carried over the sea.
Lightning flashed. Water lashed up on deck. The current dragged them near. His heart flopped to his stomach. Men ran about behind him, yelling orders. The blood pounded through his temples. His legs trembled. He stared, as the fog crept around the opposing ship. The rocks grew hazy. The pirates’ ship swayed. Its bow twisted. The etching of wolf’s wooden, snarled head twisted towards them.
A twinge shot up his spine. Something prodded his back. Throwing his head over his shoulders, Peter gasped as the captain’s face met his. “There,” he roared, stabbing his finger over the cabin-boy’s shoulder. “Help Lawson and Brandon with the cannon. Hurry, boy.” Thunder roared. Rain lashed on the deck. Tossing a glance to the sky, the crew groaned. “That’s all we need,” growled the captain, behind him.
With a grunt, Peter helped heave the largest cannon across the deck. Scraping the barrel against the gunwale, his legs trembled. Pain shot up his right ankle. He toppled, grabbing out for the boat’s rim. Waves sloshed against the body, as the waterline grew higher. Gasping, the cabin-boy threw himself away from the gunwale. Backing away from the deck’s edge, he bashed into Brandon. “Fire!” bellowed the captain.
“Hold yer ears,” Brandon warned him with a nudge. Peter nodded. Squinting his eyes shut, he cupped his hands over his ears as the blasting commenced. His stomach whirled. The ground quaked. He toppled. Smoke wafted up his nostrils. Opening his eyes, he heaved forwards with a whooping cough. Brandon wacked a hand to his back. Peter staggered to his knees. “Careful,” muttered Brandon, as Lawson prepared the cannon for another firing.
Waves sloshed up the side of the ship. Staggering back, the cabin-boy threw a hand out to the cannon to steady his balance. “Watch ya fingers,” snapped Lawson.
“Down!” gasped Brandon. Snapping his eyes shut, the boy obeyed orders. “Everybody down!” Whistling swung through the air. Light flickered through his closed lids. Smash. Wood splintered. The crew slid starboard. Slamming against the wall, men yelped out in pain. Water lashed over deck. Long Tom rolled towards them. The bow dipped. Crack. The cannon lodged into the main mast.
Clambering to his feet, Lawson staggered towards the beam. “This ain’t good,” he declared with a furrowed brow, as he gripped the back of his neck. The captain appeared at Lawson’s side. Long Tom had fractured the mast. It still held together, but with a storm tugging at the sails, Lawson’s cry of, “How much longer?” echoed the thoughts of the crew.
“Bring ‘er around!” barked the captain. “Bring ‘er around!”
The boat swayed. The tide tilted them aport, before tossing them back. A wave washed over them. “Hold on t’ something,” Brandon yelled. Grabbing a hand to the hanging shrouds, the cabin-boy staggered to stand. His heart hammered. His eyes daggered left. Coats of navy slid towards the helm. To the right, men looped their arms through ropes, clung to the decking and tightened their grip to their swords, having stabbed their blade through the ship’s frame.
“We’re losing them,” came a shout, as a crew member pointed over portside. The wolf-headed ship grew distant. Its sails faded through the fog. The crew cheered. Letting out a breath, the cabin-boy’s shoulders dropped.
“We survived,” he whispered and his widened, as Brandon thumped him on the back. The thudding in his chest eased. ‘The pirates have given up,’ he mused. Letting out a nervous laugh, the right corner of the boy’s mouth poked up into a smile.
“We’re not outta the water yet,” Brandon warned him.
“Rocks!” came a cry from the crow’s nest. Watching the captain scramble to the helm, the cabin-boy gasped. Waves slashed over the deck. Water streamed from Peter’s face, as he belched forwards. Coughing, the salty water stung his throat. The boat tipped. His heart dropped through his stomach. His feet skidded. Rocks scratched the boat’s surface. They bobbed portside. They rocked back. Wood cracked. Water engulfed the right of the ship, as it slid towards the sea. His heart leapt from his chest. Another crack. He threw his head towards the mast. As the ship hurtled into another rock, the mast trembled.
“Look out!” the cabin-boy cried, shoving Brandon out of the way. Cratering through the deck, the mast shattered.
“Hold on!” came a yell as the bow plunged into more boulders. The ground rumbled. Wood splintered. The sea engulfed them. All went black.
- Josie -
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