Journey to The Kieran Empire

AKA We’re not pirates, okay?

On the second day of sailing aboard The Captain’s Mistress after rescuing the Scurillian scholar Equais, the heroes encountered an open, pleasant ocean around them. They conversed and reflected, sinking quickly back into life on the calm sea. Being in tight quarters aboard this skiff was a rather unfortunate situation for Mongrel and Spool who had still given each other only malice filled glances. Equais also expressed his lack of comfort through many snide remarks under his breath, and more out loud to whoever would listen. But this was nothing out of the ordinary for the crabby man.

The third day of their trip was slightly more interesting, however much more bothersome than the previous 24 hours. As the sun rose from the depths beneath the horizon, Spool, who had just wakened, took a sweeping view around the boat with his spyglass. As he passed over the prow of the boat, he stopped. A tiny black dot hung on the thread separating the flat sea from the boiling sky. Alerting the captain and the rest of the crew, Spool pointed out the disturbance. Deciding to proceed as normal, for they had nothing to hide, they carried on their way, true to their course.

The dot drew closer, and as it did it resolved into a boat, black trimmed with gold, the colors of the Kieran Empire. The ship was on a path to intercept The Captain’s Mistress, and to avoid suspicion or provocation, the crew continued steadily onward. The opposing ship, now clearly visible, could only be a Kieran Cutter, a sleek class of boat designed to hunt pirates in Kieran waters. These “blackships” comprise much of the Kieran Navy, and boast a considerable amount of firepower, as well as manpower.

As the blackship neared, the crew furrowed the sails, and stopped the skiff as a sign of submission. The cutter drew closer, and the crew could see at least a two dozen men, clad in black and gold uniforms standing on the deck and atop the poop deck. A call to prepare to be boarded came across the water, and a ladder was thrown overboard. The cutter pulled up next to the comparably diminutive skiff, and a middle aged man with a large head and appropriately large beard looked down at the crew. He introduced himself as Jeffery Jorgensen, captain of the cutter Our Lady’s Pleasure, and commander of the Kieran Royal Navy, and informed the crew that they were going to be searched for evidence of piracy.

Aurora clamored up the ladder to the higher deck in order to provide more room for Captain Jorgensen and his men aboard The Captain’s Mistress. There was a considerable amount of disagreement between the captain and the crew of the skiff, as they had a small amount of cargo and supplies on board, but no ships manifest to account for the lumber they had taken from the supply the Rebecca was hauling to their current destination. Through much appeasement and negotiation, the crew assuaged Captain Jorgensen’s suspicion of piracy, and he reluctantly allowed the patched up skiff to carry on to the capital from whence they came, but not before warning them to stay far, far away if they meant trouble. Stroking his beard impulsively, he boarded his vessel and with only intimidating looks at his crew and that of The Captain’s Mistress, the two vessels parted ways.

Over the next few days, the travels of those aboard The Captain’s Mistress were mundane and monotonous. The winds came and went with the days and nights, but the dark storm clouds seen on the horizon never approached.

Three days out from Kiera, the crew spied another vessel approaching them. It had changed its course to intercept, but had done so rather awkwardly. As the intervening vessel approached, the heroes scanned its deck for signs of action aboard, but came up short. In fact, they could not perceive any movement whatsoever. Looking around anxiously at each other, the crew realized they were in a dangerous situation. Spool and Miguel recognized this as a classic pirates trick attempted before accosting a vessel at sea. The crew would go below deck, or flat against it, so the approaching ship would appear unmanned. They would then proceed to fire cannons at the target, and using the thunder and smoke of the artillery, jump up, and begin boarding the helpless victim’s ship. The crew of the targeted ship could not prepare to intercept the scallywags as their ability to predict where they would land was diminished, and they were usually preoccupied with the fresh holes in the side of their boat.

But fortunately no attack came from this opposing vessel as it drew up alongside them. The ship was made from a dark, rich looking wood, appeared new, and looked remarkably ostentatious for a pirate vessel. Written in looping golden strokes on the prow of the craft was its title: ­The Dolphin. It was a remarkable sight to see, a pleasure craft as fine as this one, but even more startling than the grandeur of the boat, were the scarlet-haired heads of four figures suddenly sticking up over the bulwark.

Quickly the crew realized these were not the scraggily and unkempt faces of scurvy dogs, but those of children! Immediately the oldest looking one introduced himself as Captain Aaron Arenson, and accused the crew of being pirates. His authority though was quickly undermined by that of a younger looking boy standing close to him, as he too declared himself captain of The Dolphin. The crew of The Captain’s Mistress stood bewildered, stunned by what they were witnessing. Two girls looking about the age of 7 stood next to each other near the prow, laughing at the crab men aboard the opposite vessel, while the two boys argued about authority aboard their ship.

The crew of the skiff took this opportunity to shout back at the kids, asking what business they had with them, and what authority they had to stop and question them. Quickly Aaron turned to berate the heroes with an indignant look on his face. He launched into a sputtering and rather pathetic speech about how his father would hear of their disobedience and insolence, and how dare they talk to him like that.

Dismissing initial intentions and inclinations to steal the ship from the kids, the crew decided to talk further to these spoiled brats, as they were most likely of a great and powerful family if they had access to a ship this grand. So they were insulted, demeaned, and laughed at by a bunch of six kids aged 6-16. When the crew could finally not take it any longer they hit back with words and insults of their own. It was really a sight to see, two ragtag crews shouting insults and empty threats across the water to each other in the middle of an endless clear plane. Obviously the pampered and spoiled brats reacted poorly to this, as they had never been insulted by anyone like this in their entire lives (at least not to their faces). The crew demeaned Aaron particularly, who took especially poorly to this, and broke down crying, admitting pitifully that he had stolen this ship from his father’s private docks in order to get his attention. It was obvious they had no idea how to sail a ship and it was a miracle they had gotten this far. For his cries and whines the crew surmised that their father was a powerful man in Kiera, who was constantly busy and had no time to devote to his children. The crew felt bad, pitied the kids, and decided to do the right thing by taking them back to Kiera, thankfully their already intended destination.

So Spool climbed aboard The Dolphin while Senor Miguel Figuroa stayed aboard The Captain’s Mistress. Over the next few days the crew traveled with each other, the petty flotilla moving surely towards Kiera. The black spires, gilded with golden trim and intricate emblems was the first glimpse they caught of the terraced city. As they sailed closer to the capital, it resolved into the segregated, classist metropolis that rose up in layers from the encroaching sea below. The broken remnants of the drowned eighth and ninth terraces slowed the ships to a crawl as they delicately weaved through the decrepit debris field, careful not to rake their hull and draw the pirates who watched and waited for victims of traps they set in these fields.

Making it through without a scratch, the crews veered their vessels away from the main commercial port and off around the side of the city to a smaller hidden section of docks, used by the nobility and high merchants of this city. As the ships pulled up next to the docks which flew the emblem the crew had seen aboard The Dolphin, guards ran out to meet them. After some confused orders and discussion, a man walked down the pier to meet them, followed by his own retinue of guardsmen. He was a large man, both in figure and demeanor, who walked quite briskly for his size. The guards in fact had to trot behind him to keep up with his determined gait. He introduced himself to the party as Willas Wellington, Commander of the Kieran City Guard, and informed the crew that they had some explaining to do. The children were escorted away by the guards, presumably back to their father, and the heroes launched into their rather unfortunate and unusual tale.

Commander Wellington listened closely, with an unchanging facial expression of unnerving patience. When the heroes had finished iterating their story of woe and unexpected fortune to the Commander, he nodded slowly once, and thanked them for finding and returning the children of Aric Arenson, an influential merchant of Kiera. He told them that while he would be unable to reward them for simply doing the right thing, perhaps Master Arenson would be interested in providing recompense for the return of his children…