Headed by a Snake

Three new men were strung up dead on the walls of the Saltspray Keep. A Captain's hat was pinned to the center man's chest with a crossbow bolt. It was obvious to any informed onlookers that the Saltspray Kings had undergone a change in leadership.

Neutral ground was agreed upon between the fort and the outside camp, in order to negotiate terms of surrender. Tycon sat at a table across from a silver-bearded pirate, an empty paper contract between them. Off to the side was the young Pale, sitting quietly in his wizard robe and hat.

Several hundred miserable pirates warily watched. On the other side was a similar number of sea Wolves, in good spirits and fattened by fresh fish and stolen storeroom goods.

Liber of the Saltspray Kings tapped his finger on the table, "The only issue I have with the magic contract is the non-encroachment period."

Tycon grimaced, "Your guild give us all of your captured slaves. My guild leaves you alone for 90 suns. That should be plenty of time for you and your men to sod off into the ocean blue."

The bearded pirate raised an eyebrow, "Mister Sea Wolf, the Saltspray Kings have a commodity you need. You, as well have specifically stated in the magic contract, not 'many,' and not 'some,' but 'all' of our captured slaves."

Tycon scoffed, "Tss. Mister Liber, are you trying to turn a profit? I have on good word that your peers could use a bit more 'oomph' in their diet."

Liber smiled, "My peers have no issues consuming human flesh-- and we don't even have to eat our own. Come now, Mister Tycon, 90 suns are not enough time to rebuild. Give us 5 years."

Tycon glared as he gave his counter-offer...

...

...After nearly two bells of deliberation, Liber and Tycon agreed on the duration of the non-encroachment period-- 3 years. Pale drafted the contract using his elementary magic and half-a-bottle of magic ink. The pirates had a few amongst them who could read... but not well. At Liber's behest, Tycon read the contract aloud to the pirates, patiently explaining the dozens of clauses besides the non-encroachment period.

They were satisfied-- and for good reason. The terms the Saltspray Kings had bargained for, sharply leaned in their favor. Besides non-encroachment, they also demanded non-aggression-- a difficult concept to enforce. Liber knew how to leverage their hostages... and Tycon's debate with the intelligent man left him mentally fatigued.

Fooling Liber was a tiresome job.

It took over 2 more bells for the Saltspray pirates to free some 110 captured slaves. A significant number of prisoners were injured or had gone with untreated injuries for weeks. Nearly all of them were malnourished to some extent.

The gruel would be a logical meal for the civilians until they convalesced enough to eat normal food. If the situation weren't so troubling, Tycon was certain that Hai would be ecstatic that he wouldn't have to waste the "good stuff."

Out of both boredom and curiosity, Tycon decided to visit the infirmaries to assist with the triage. He wasn't particularly skilled at medicine, but he was familiar with basic procedures. He interviewed patients to inform the medical staff, carried people and equipment, and served as a calming presence for all parties involved.

"Sir Tycon, we could use your assistance, over here," a bald sailor with a musical voice called for him.

Tycon checked the System-provided name over the sailor's head, "Petty Officer Milo. What seems to be the issue?"

The bald man smiled worriedly, "Sir Tycon! I'm gonna have to be honest, I saw you use magical healing on a few of the rescuees and was wondering if you had more of the juice."

Tycon did indeed have more of... 'the juice.' Tycon granted the sailor a smile, "My Skill rapidly accelerates natural healing for several seconds-- somewhat reminiscent to how a Sea Wolf recovers, actually. Is there a patient having difficulty?"

"Not exactly... It'll probably be best if I just show you."

Milo escorted Tycon to a larger tent, separated from the others. Upon entering, Tycon first noticed a young woman with disheveled hair, staring at him blankly. A thin trail of saliva had dried down the side of her mouth and she wore nothing but a torn robe.

Tycon waved a hand in front of her face, but the woman didn't even flinch.

...The tent was full of men and women in a similar condition.

The sailor grimaced, "They're unresponsive... I don't know if it's something wrong with their heads or if there's some sort of spell, but I figured that you might know something..."

Tycon gently took the woman's arm, "I'll see what I can do. I believe you've made the right choice."

He guided her and she walked obediently as Tycon directed. Sitting the woman down on a cot, he looked into her eyes for pupil dilation and checked her pulse-- even though he was using his System, he'd at least appear professional.

« System, inquiry: What is afflicting this woman? »

[System response: Target's mental capacities are reduced by a Third-Circle enchantment.]

Third-Circle... Normal humans rarely had access to Third-Circle magic-- and if there was a Gold-Rank Mage allied to the Saltspray Kings, they would have some sign of it, by now.

It was likely that a ritual was involved.

« System, inquiry: How do we reverse the spell's effect? »

[System response: The enchantment can be nullified by a restoration spell of Third-Circle or higher.]

Tycon shook his head. The cost and effort of finding a spellcaster for that were not within his best interests-- and especially not for so many people, "Petty Officer Milo, are there any other anomalies about these victims?"

The young man flushed for a moment but kept his professionalism, "Yes, sir. Everyone with these conditions has shown signs of abuse and torture..."

Sex and torture were the components of the ritual. Tycon didn't enjoy the thought of it. The victims had experienced sexual and physical depravities and were ultimately forced to surrender their minds.

The ritual was moderately cruel-- enough that a person or a group in the Saltspray Keep has grown considerably more powerful.

"Is there anything we can do?" Milo asked hopefully.

Tycon hesitated, "I'm doubtful. I will discuss exploring the fort with Captain Lang. It will be our best hope at reversing this spell."

...

By late afternoon, Captain Lang Hai had arranged for everyone to collect around a raised platform at the impromptu war camp. Hai stood with Baron Tycon, surrounded by the Marines and sailors of the Beaurte fleet. The recently rescued civilians watched on.

Hai leaned over to the green-haired youth, "Remind me to never let you draft a magical contract for me, you... snake."

Tycon chuckled lightly, "I'll take that as a compliment, Captain."

"Are all nobles as insidious and sneaky as you?" Hai inquired.

"I'd say I'm only average."

"Guh... Not the answer I was looking for," Hai crossed his arms.

Tycon picked up the banner of the Sea Wolves and raised it high, rousing a round of cheers and applause.

Hai addressed the crowd in a loud voice...

"We have completed one of our goals on this sun... Guild Invictus!! OUR ALLIES! They have returned to us our kinsmen! But in doing so, Baron Tycon was forced to compromise... Sir Tycon."

Tycon stepped forward, "I have drafted a magical contract with the Saltspray Kings. In return for the safe return of the prisoners... I have promised that my guild was to depart on MY ships as soon as we were able."

He raised his arms up, "And MY ships are banned from encroaching upon Saltspray territory for 3 years!!"

A confused murmur rippled through the crowd until a single shameless girl gasped aloud in her realization.

"But you don't own any ships, Mister Tycon!!"

Tycon pointed at the voice's owner, Rico, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the smartest girl out of the lot of you."

The Sea Wolves began to roar with laughter. Apparently, Rico was well known amongst the crews of the 3 ships. (Amidst the noise, Rico was proudly showing off that she was 4.)

As Tycon stepped back, Lang Hai again stepped forward...

"We have ANOTHER goal to fulfill! Hear me, Sea Wolves!!"

The crowd roared back, echoing throughout the island. "WE HEAR YOU!!"

Hai was not convinced, "I said-- HEAR ME, SEA WOLVES!!"

"WE HEEEAAR YOUU!!!!!" The Wolves began stomping their feet and clanging their weapons together as they called out.

"I want EACH and EVERY single pirate in that fort RIPPED!! TORN!! DEAD!! HEAR ME, SEA WOLVES!!"

"WE HEAR YOU!!"

"I want that entire gods-damned fort RAZED TO THE GROUND!! DO YOU HEAR ME, SEA WOLVES!?!"

"WE HEAR YOU!!!"

"RIP AND TEAR!!" Lang Hai screamed.

"RIIIP AND TEAARRRR!!!" The crowd returned his fervor.

Captain Lang Hai nodded to Tycon.

Tycon unsheathed his sword and raised it to the sky. With a deep breath, he bellowed, "BLOOD AND THUNDERRR!!"

"VICTORY AT SEEEEAAAAA!!!" The Sea Wolves unsheathed and raised their own weapons. Dozens among them howled their strange, haunting songs, adding to the cries.

Tycon pointed his blade towards the keep... and the Sea Wolves surged forth, a roaring, howling tide thirsting for blood.