logan-derrington

[logan-derrington]

shadows gather

Five years ago 

“Logan, we gotta fuckin’ go.”

Every hair on the back of Logan’s neck stood on end as the torches went out. “Aye, we gotta fuckin’ go is righ’...” He unlatched a grenade and tossed it forward, the explosion loud but the light from it letting him see the doorway. “This way!” The shadows shrieked and chittered at the explosion, the blessed grenade pulverizing some but there were just… So many.

Logan felt claws on his arm and back, grasping, not cutting. “Keep movin’ Dillie...” The captain soon might feel the same, the overwhelming number of appendages grasping at the pair starting to feel like drowning or being drug below the surface. “Gods… Can’… Ge’ em off… Can’ ge’ ah grenade…” Logan struggled and lashed out, trying to get enough room to loose another grenade.

The dark was wrapping around her, up her throat and up over her cheeks. Her grave would read ‘Died as she lived, making poor choices.’ The pair could struggle but would be unable to move, staring ahead into the darkness for a long few moments as they were pinned. Something like the skittering of spider limbs sounded out suddenly and a spark could be heard before a red flame engulfed the area, casting a shadow enriching light about the place. The massive spider centaur creature carried a man in it’s arms, which it set before the pair. The man himself was fairly scrawny, though tall, a lanky Kaldorei by the looks of him. Noticeably, his right arm was twisted into something all together more animalistic and shadow made, leaving him with claws for fine manipulation. “Did you come for the maker? Do you hear the voices too?" 

Dylan twisted against the darkness, feeling the cold embrace that went far deeper than the shadows. It was in her nature to fight to the bitter end.  When the thing spoke, she locked onto it. ”The Seven sent us. Let us go. We need to find the Maker. Let us go!“

”Do you have the book? Have you read his deeds? I would very much like to but I don’t know where the book is…“ The man with the shadowed arm cooed. Open the book Read of his deeds

Dylan felt a pang go through her head and she inhaled, shakily. She prayed that she was not about to make a stupid choice. ”I did no’ read it.. no. But I know who has it. An’ I can take you to it.“

By the time they reach The Blind King half the crew were on the deck with their hands on their pistols, wearily eyeing the twisted man their Captain and Quartermaster had brought abroad. There was a silence as thick as the stink of the men aboard, all eyes to Dylan waiting for a direction. 

“Tha’ fuck are you lot starin’ at, get undahway to Dead Sun! Move!” She shouted and all hopped to. That left her and Logan standing on the deck with their ‘guest’. “You can sleep in my quartahs, Mistah Neradaen. We’ll make sure you got all yah need.” 

She had caught the King’s boatswain by the arm and she pulled him in close to murmur, “He don’ leave watch. Two men at all time on him. Lo an’ I’s got tha ’first watch.”

For a day and a half, the wind hardly blew enough to get up to three knots. Dylan’s eyes were sunken on the horizon. “Tol’ Eilithe an’ Rev,” she said. 

“Aye?” Logan answered just as tired. 

“They ain’ like it– but I explained tha’ delicate situation we was in.” 

“An’?” 

“They still ain’ like it.” 

Logan flicked a cigar overboard and shook his head, wandering off to do whatever it was that he did to keep the King afloat. Dylan shook her head and let her gaze fall out on the deck where the shadowy man breathed in the ocean air. Like he was normal. 

Two more days of doldrums kept the ship barely moving and by then it had rotated back to Dylan’s watch. She was sat up against the wall of the cabin on a barrel, her feet propped up and hands folded on her stomach.  She was just about to sleep when Logan’s boots came stomping up to her. “Dylan wha’ tha’ fuck,” he whispered in more of a tone that was a yell. “You said explicit-like if is your watch you don’ leave, now I got half tha’ crew wanderin’ wha’ makes it so you’re exempt from tha’. It is dangerous, an’ has to be watched at all times. Tha’ is wha’ tha’ fuck you sa–” Her emerald eyes had gotten progressively more narrowed, before she waved her hand around, “Oi, wha’ in tha’ fuck are you screamin’ about. I did no’ have my eyes closed proper an’ my arse has been on this barrel, listenin’ to It in there chitterin’ and gigglin’. All night.”  Logan crinkled his nose, “Then how’s it square tha’ you was down in tha’ hull screamin’ at Mistah Greaves abou’ tha’ state of… all things..wood grain. You been drinkin’ too?”  Dylan stood up and exhaled in Logan’s face, though it was no more or less stinking of alcohol than usual. “I been here all night an’ I think you better remember whose fuckin’ ship you’re on before you accuse me othahwi-” In sync their heads turned to the Captain’s Cabin door. A quiet humming was interrupted by a question. Dylan and Logan peered through cracks in the door to watch the shadows move inside the cabin lit by a single candle.

“Who are you~” The shadow-man asked. 

“Captain Dylan Reed,” a shadow answered in a bastardized Kul Tiran drawl. It was by no means perfect– but a good enough copy that the poor Mister Greaves was fooled. And how many more could have been. 

Neradaen toyed with the shadowy locks that framed Dylan’s copy’s cheeks, “You will be the first of many, my sweet creation. The master will reward us when his majesty awakens.” 

One week ago

“Two elves is here to see yah Captain.” 

It was a wonder Eilithe An’Diel’s kids hadn’t put her in an early grave. Now the eldest came with his lover, seeking her and Logan’s council. She was disinterested until he presented her with a black rose set neatly in wooden box. The same rose tattooed on Logan’s back and over her left breast.  Xavier recounted the first time he’d seen them, Seven shadows impossibly tall. Seven shadows that declared themselves her wardens. Dylan had lived a life directed by the sea alone, before those Seven shadows chose her. 

”An’ wha’ abou’ tha second time? How was they positioned? Ya know, like One big fuckah, seven ah them, circle, semi-circle?“ Logan demanded in rapid succession. 

"Well the second time it was just the rose, they weren’t…there there. The rose flew at me and I had a vision. First it was the seven making the rose, then the second vision they were just sort of staring me down. They weren’t big tall robed figures it was like when they were training and doing magic before.” he replied, the memory flickering in his mind. “In Zin-Azshari, I think that’s what Zanashii and Mai said when I described the city.”

“Sounds like you saw tha’ Seven tha’ first time– and then got chosen tha’ secon’ go round,” Dylan said, almost as though she pitied him for this fact. 

”But…chosen for what?“

”Tha Seven is keepah’s ah tha gate. Tha gate tha’ holds back tha Dreameatah. They’s one and the same as tha keys. Was this guy, way back in them old elf days ya was talkin’ abou’. Tha Makah. He ain’ been seen in a long ass time bu’ he was tha one wha’ trained tha Seven and was tha one wha’ helped them or… Made them… Intah wha’ they is. Some othah bein’ like… How ya say i’ Cap'ain? Elevated them? Tah wha'evah demi-god state they is in now.“ Logan answered slowly.

”If ya chosen, then they gonna expec’ ya tah guard tha gate with ya life. An’ if ya don’ ansah tha call… They could snuff ya ou’ like a flame. Trus’ us… We been there.“

So choose careful, Xavier, son of Eilithe and Kurel An’Diel.

Five Years Ago 

Petals made of shadows twisted off Dylan’s skin until these was nothing left of her. The plan was simple and as poorly thought out as anything hatched by the pair of pirates. 

Corner the enemy.  Kill it. 

Neradaen had not started with Dylan’s copy, in fact she had been part of the creatures end game. Over the next two days following the discovery, two copies had been discovered– their original bodies naught to be found. Quietly, the deck was cleared and the hull rigged to blow. If Dylan and Logan failed, she’d sooner see The Blind King at the bottom of the sea than in the hands of a clone. 

Moving unseen, Logan opened the door and she entered first to see Neardaen’s back to the door. He seemed far too distracted with his scheming to notice them. 

Silent footfalls crept up on the creature until. 

“You cannot hide in the shadows, we are masters of it.” 

That was as good as ‘now’ as either one of them needed. Dylan burst with black petals and rushed Neradaen with two quick slashes. Logan was right behind her, going low to distract, with a cut to his legs. The back of the creature’s mal-formed arm struck Dylan hard enough that she cracked the wall she collided with, groaning. 

“I…will show you…excellence,” Neradaen said, thrusting the spiked arm at Logan’s throat. Two swords crossed to catch the arm but Logan’s opponent was strong. The rattling of metal came when Logan’s strength started to fail. “I unnno, mate. Feeling.. pretty.. fuckin’..excellent..already.” 

Dylan slipped a wire over Neradaen’s head in the split seconds he was distracted by Logan’s arrogance. When she pulled hard the creature gurgled and flailed. Dylan was latched on like a leech, even as he slammed her back into a window. “SHOOT THIS MOTHAHFUCKAH!” She screamed, breathless. 

BANG. 

Right in the chest. Neradaen’s face twisted and slowly slid down to the ground. “I…wanted to serve..I have served. Oh..master.. I–” A second shot went against his temple, this time from Dylan’s pistol.

It was quiet, save for the boots that came toward the cabin. All coming to inquire as to whether or not they’d be dying that night or another day. Dylan threw the body off her and spit right on it’s eye.  “The Order of the Black Rose sends it’s regard, you cunt.” 

@xavier-sunshadow​ @logan-derrington​ @eilitheduskbringer​ @revthepunchbear​

[logan-derrington]

Somewhere out in the harbor, Logan was blissfully unaware of the doom he’d wrought upon the Blind King. He was most likely finding his way into a seedy establishment or some such to get his gamble on. 

Nothing was further from his mind than the hands about to be laid upon him and the pettiness of the admiral. 

@givemetheopensea​ @kurel-andiel​

Directly from the Admirals Desk. The Letter started off with. "Captain Reed, The Blind King is hereby ordered on Guard Duty of Dead Sun's Bay. Until further notice you are ordered of the Admiral to remain in port and construct an acceptable shift schedule for twenty-four hour watch. You will receive no support from fellow captains and your duties abroad will be reassigned. When your Quartermaster learns proper public conduct, we can discuss reassignment. ~Admiral An'Diel

Dylan looked at the note and her face turned ugly. She knew this was coming. Logan didn’t know where to draw a line and she was guessing that it was somewhere in the realm of publicly fucking with the Admiral. Throwing a fit wouldn’t get her way– though she’d be certain to remind Eilithe who brought her good information. Out on the deck, she barked orders. “Set up in a shift of three, roll dice to see which of you lo’ gets wha’ shift. No arguin’ No bitchin’ jus’ do it. Set us on patrol of tha’ horizon line. I’m goin’ ashore.” Going ashore to smack the fuck out of her Quartermaster.

[logan-derrington]

“Migh’ be tha blanks. Migh’ be some fuckin’ weird ass love traingle. Alls I know is we gotta make while tha gettin’ is good. Thinkin’ we caugh this nice an’ early. Gotta be a way fah us tah make some coin off ah i’. Maybe we can go pay this brothah ah his a visi’ and ya know… Ge’ him tah encourage our silence and furthah diggin’ by way of coin in our pocke’.” He spun around a bit, trying to get his bearing of where they were exactly, since he hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Bastahd go’ a fancy ass apar’men’ is wha’ tha lads was sayin’. Whole lotta’ fancy ass furnahture go’ shipped in and carried on up there. Said i’ was by ordah ah tha Firs’ Warden…” He rose a brow and grinned. “Maybe he’s fuckin’ here to eh? Maybe he’s jus’ fuckin’ tha lo’ ah the speakah ladies. Anyways, ready tah go see abou’ makin’ some coin?” 

@eilitheduskbringer​ @kurel-andiel​

"Fancy some grungy dirt on the ol' Admiral an' Arbiter." One of the common crewmen said conversationally in passing Logan. "She was seen goin' into 'is sleezy brothers loft all alone. Wearin' her prime don't hide nuffin' skirt an' all. I mean between the two 'e is the better lookin' one. Or maybe they jus' a family tha' -shares-'. " The crewman laughed and carried on with his work.

The grin on Logan’s face couldn’t have been bigger. “’Course I do! Who ya think I am mate? Le’s hear i’ then!” He took a long swig from his bourbon as he listened and damn near choked on it as he began to bark with laughter. “Oi! Knew she was more fun than she le’ on! Fuckin’… Ya know she was tah do a show with tha Admahral at the Cock ‘n Candle? They was gonna be fuckin’ fah tha patrons. Mus’ be trouble in paradise…” 

The scalawag stroked his beard, looking around for Dylan. “OI! DILLIE! WHERE YA A’?!” He hollered about the bar before turning back to the sailor that was sharing such pleasing information. “So she was all ass hangin’ ou’ an everythin’? Gods above. She plays at this prude ya know?” He looked around the tavern again. “OI! DILLIE! GE’ YA ASS OVAH HERE!” With a grin, he finished off his bourbon and slapped the man on the shoulder. “Tell ya wha’ mate. Ya hear anythin’ else about this? Ya jus’ come and find me aye? I’ll buy ya a round fah the good stuff.” 

With that, he turned and went looking for Dylan, wheels of devious plans cranking in his head. 

@eilitheduskbringer @givemetheopensea

[logan-derrington]

"Fancy some grungy dirt on the ol' Admiral an' Arbiter." One of the common crewmen said conversationally in passing Logan. "She was seen goin' into 'is sleezy brothers loft all alone. Wearin' her prime don't hide nuffin' skirt an' all. I mean between the two 'e is the better lookin' one. Or maybe they jus' a family tha' -shares-'. " The crewman laughed and carried on with his work.

The grin on Logan’s face couldn’t have been bigger. “’Course I do! Who ya think I am mate? Le’s hear i’ then!” He took a long swig from his bourbon as he listened and damn near choked on it as he began to bark with laughter. “Oi! Knew she was more fun than she le’ on! Fuckin’... Ya know she was tah do a show with tha Admahral at the Cock ‘n Candle? They was gonna be fuckin’ fah tha patrons. Mus’ be trouble in paradise...” 

The scalawag stroked his beard, looking around for Dylan. “OI! DILLIE! WHERE YA A’?!” He hollered about the bar before turning back to the sailor that was sharing such pleasing information. “So she was all ass hangin’ ou’ an everythin’? Gods above. She plays at this prude ya know?” He looked around the tavern again. “OI! DILLIE! GE’ YA ASS OVAH HERE!” With a grin, he finished off his bourbon and slapped the man on the shoulder. “Tell ya wha’ mate. Ya hear anythin’ else about this? Ya jus’ come and find me aye? I’ll buy ya a round fah the good stuff.” 

With that, he turned and went looking for Dylan, wheels of devious plans cranking in his head. 

@eilitheduskbringer @givemetheopensea

[logan-derrington]

[logan-derrington]

Shaken

It had started like any other sort of day. Logan and Dylan had taken a portal at the behest of the arbiter. Off to meet an old acquaintance, a pandaren man named Zhang. Who for the unknowing, was a benevolent man that oversaw a small town in his home land of the Jade Forest. To those that knew, he was something entirely different though. He and his crew were whispered rumors among sea dogs. The Masked. The Merciless. No prisoners taken and no survivors left. Yet he held a code not all that dissimilar from Dead Sun and thus his township thrived. 

Dylan and Logan had shared laughs and jabs at each other on the way and it only continued into the night as they met with Zhang at the local tavern. The man had information on a score and he was offering it to them, for a cut. He was trying to retire after all and Dead Sun had helped him in a spot or two. Right as they were about to conclude and set into the heavy drinking it all went to shit. 

The town’s warning bells sounded out and people began to panic. Zhang rose to his feet and began ordering people to the abandoned temple in town. 

“Tha fuck is i’ Zhang?” Logan was on edge, there had been far too much fuckery for his taste of late, after all. “The shadows come, Mister Derrington. I must protect my people. You may join us in the temple, if you wish.” The large man then rushed out, working to help the weak and children into hiding. 

Something clicked over in Logan’s mind and he stared at Dylan. “Fuck, i’s tha place tha Seven talked abou’! We gotta tell tha ahbitah!” He managed to scream for help over the seal to the rest of Dead Sun before the shit got shittier. It was almost in an instant, the transition. No longer were he and Dylan in the real - they were in a realm of shadows, edges blurry and bleeding in an upwards direction. In the center of the room they’d been in was a hulking monster of shadows, so large it was hunched in the space. It lacked proper definition, though it was clear it had arms as big as trees which almost immediately began swinging at the pair. 

Logan was a slippery bastard at the best of times and now was no exception. He dipped and dodged the swinging limbs, pulling out a pistol loaded with holy ammunition. The Seven had said to carry enchanted weapons after all. He fired off shots, screaming obscenities the entire time. To his horror though, the usually oh so lucky Dylan’s luck had run dry. A bullet of her own ricocheted and slammed into her, the massive tree arms smashed her aside and she was soon hurting badly. 

It was hardly something he registered, moving to protect Dylan, a grenade of holy light magic roaring as it exploded, Dylan screaming and shooting off her pistols. The creature fell, wisping away into nothing but inky smoke before the pair were dropped back into the real. “We gotta find tha othahs!” Dylan answered with a roar, Logan running ahead as the captain limped after him. 

Eilithe, Ay’lysae, Velerodra. What fuckery had they uncovered? A massive shadow, even larger than the last, with the torso of a human, the legs and arms of a crab with the head of an angry predatory bird lashed and struck at them. Further down the road, Geoff was having his own troubles, a boar like shadow beast with enough human arms to make it seem like a centipede. “Gonna help him Lo’! Stay here and figh’!” Logan could argue her over almost anything but right now, he could only feel the burning of the shadow rose that was tattooed on his side. With a bellow of more obscenities, he launched forward and into the fray. 

In the end it was the soul spear of Eilithe that felled the beast, though it had taken a heavy toll on them all. Logan was nearly as battered as Dylan, Eilithe was convulsing on the ground, Ay’lysae was in bad shape, and Geoff was hardly able to talk. Trembling and shaking, Logan made his way to Dylan, holding her as Velerodra ripped a bullet unceremoniously from her. He barely registered moving her to the doctor and then to Dead Sun. Kurel had said something at some point and Logan’s mouth had formed words and sounds but he couldn’t remember them. 

The night ended in the bathhouse, the pair curled into each other in fragrant bath water. Logan had no words. They’d been told what to do. ‘Find the maker’. The Seven, the cryptic bastards that they were, had only told them to search a shore filled with ash. Which at this point could be half the gods forsaken world. He pushed it from his mind for the time and left his thought to linger on Dylan and just how grateful he was that she was there with him in that moment. 

The man wouldn’t ever admit it, but he’d been shaken. He was scared. He was overwhelmed. For once, he was afraid to lose what he had.

-------------

@givemetheopensea​ @eilitheduskbringer​ @velerodra-valesinger​ @kurel-andiel​ @deadsunharbor​

[logan-derrington]

[x]

[logan-derrington]

back home

The meeting had gone as planned which meant Dylan walked away with a shitty deal whilst Kurel and Eilithe got to feel like they had gotten a real sweet one. Twenty-five percent of their hauls– five in escrow for the commission of new canons, ten to Dead Sun proper, ten as tribute to the Lord and Lady. Not to mention the stipulation that Dylan and the crew write home regularly to Dead Sun’s Daddy™ about their hunts.

“Guess Eilithe ain’ tha’ only one gettin’ fucked by Captain An’Diel anymore,” she said to Logan, a vicious grin on her face. They laughed about that all the way back to Dead Sun. 

A day later in her cabin, Red, her Boatswain and Logan the Quartermaster all stood around her table. To say the crew was happy about getting bent over by the Arbiter and her Admiral would have been a joke– but the sting of twenty-five percent was lessened by the fact that they’d be on the water again.

And they’d be even happier once they realized how much sweeter the pot was going to get. She’d get her Eye, and they’d chase down every ship that held a good prize they could manage in the mean time. 

“Metal,” she said. 

“Metal,” Red said.  “Aye, see about them whores an’ wha’ they know, reach out ta’ a few friends I got tha’ run in Eilithe’s whispa’ cul’ an’ I’ll see about workin’ it from tha’ end. We bring back a load of metal, worth more than wha’ Eilithe would pay to have it imported honest– we only gain their confidence.” Dylan grinned, “Plus I wanna see tha’ look on An’Diel’s face when we prove him wrong about tha’ level of competency between the lot of us. Furthermore, I wanna see tha’ look on his face when I sign ova’ all tha’ metal ta’ his woman an’ she’s reallll grateful we was out here thinkin’ of her.” 

Logan liked the idea– but it was obvious Red was waiting for it to blow up in both their faces.Though that was much the way Dylan’s plans often went; high risk, high reward. And she always had a back up for the back up. 

As they were offering their ‘ayes’, there was a roar on the deck– the sound of swords falling in great swings onto her Freshly Repaired and Polished ™ deck. Logan was already turned to investigate, and booted feet thundered as though the crew had joined in chase of a single man. 

But it wasn’t a man at all.  “OI! NO! YOU FUCKS WANT TO EXPLAIN WHY THA’ DAMNED THING IS COOKED TO THA’ ADMIRAL!” Logan barked, but the chase continued. 

The final fuck you to The Blind King and her crew had been the insistence of the carrion bird named Croaks to the crew. It was a size smaller than a turkey vulture, sickly looking, and red. It’s beady little eyes caught and stole anything that wasn’t bolted to the fucking floor. In only four hours Dylan had come to hate that bird. 

When Dylan came through the door Logan had the bird up under his arm like a football and a shiv out waving it around like a wild man. “ALRIGH’ BACK THA’ FUCK UP! I said. I SAID! STEP AWAY FROM THA’ BIRD!” 

“He keeps shittin’ on me head!” “Stole my golden piece an’ dropped it right ova’ into tha’ sea!”  “Sure he taste jus’ like chic–”

“OI!”

Dylan’s voice was the loudest and rang above the disgruntled crewmen. “Do you lot wan’ to go back on trade routes with Captain Elliot ‘Stick Up His Arse’ Barker!” 

“NO!” They all roared, banging on rails and jeering. 

“Do you wan’ ta’ be swimmin’ in gol’ and women!” 

The cheered at that, rowdy even in port. By now, Logan had released Croaks and the red bird had come to land, poorly, on her shoulder. “Then listen up! Captain An’Diel finds himself as the Admiral of a Fleet which all of us hol’ loyalty to. An’ he don’ think we’re too smart, he thinks a fuckin’ bird’s goin’ to distract and deter us. But he won’t be proven right, Will he!” She paused for their hooping and hollering.

“Now Gentlemen, WHO SAILS THA’ FASTEST SHIP IN THA’ FLEET!” 

The cheers rang out and Dylan shot a look to Logan the faintest of smirks which could only be translated to there being a distinct reason she was Captain. The newly motivated men returned to their duties, even sung jaunty tunes as they did so. 

Morale was high. The weather looked good. Now they needed a direction to move. 

[ @logan-derrington @kurel-andiel @eilitheduskbringer @deadsunharbor ]

[logan-derrington]

and daring

She remembered getting to Fallhaven, remembered creeping through the woods. Then blackness. Whatever happened, when she woke it was late after noon and she was curled up naked beside Logan in a tent on a bedroll. 

“Wha’ time is it? Where are we?” Hexxed, that was the explanation and a woman that called herself Airidia called herself the matriarch of fifteen or so women who called the cave home. If they were witches– they didn’t strike Dylan as the sort– then again she couldn’t say she knew a lot of witches. Seeing as no one had asked for her heart? She was comfortable sitting down to a meal with them. 

“Dreams, aye– my motha’ said she came here, used to have night terrors or somethin’.” Dylan said, slurping on her soup. 

 “Dreams of face that you’ve never met, places you’ve never been. You don’t remember who put you back together when you were recovered from the depths, do you?” Airid reached into her pouch and pulled out the exact bracelet Dylan had lost. “I took this as payment– if you want it back, you will have to buy it.” Eilithe Duskbringer had some serious fucking explaining to do as to why she hadn’t told her it was a load of cave bitches that pulled her out of the water. 

“Buy i’? With wha’?” Logan asked. Before promptly asking why, pray tell, there were no men around. Airid said first that the men never stayed there long. Then came the important part. Her answer to what they wanted. “Another favor. A bigger favor.” Of course, they’d already gotten one in exchange for un-fucking Dylan from a witch’s curse “An’ why don’ they stay long? I mean, ya gotta find a good one a’ some poin’ eh?” He knew some terrible people and knew plenty of them wouldn’t stick around to raise a kid. Still, if there weren’t any? he had to wonder if the women here just had rotten luck or bad tastes. “All girls? Tha’s wild! How’s tha’ work? Don’ seem so good for keepin’ up tha population.” That pointed look was most certainly not lost on Logan. His brow furrowed hard now, stew forgotten for the moment. “An’ wha’ kind of ‘bigger’ favah you wan’ this time? A whole kid?” 

  “Because no sane Kul Tiran wants an accused witch as a wife.” A younger red head said from the back wall. “And pirates, and thieves, give us children when we want– then go back to sea, with our favor in exchange.” Airid let out an unamused laugh, “We are hardly focused on numbers. Any more and our travel would be even more unsafe. As to how things work? Smoothly, without men about.”  Dylan snorted at that, “Here here.” She sipped the broth of her soup, “Aye, if you’ve designs of barring one of this one’s bastards– you goin’ to have a bad time." 

Airid scoffed at that, ”No. You’ve a ship, don’t you. I need something retrieved. I will even go with you. I need a single item, the rest– and there will be more. Is yours. Captain.“ The conversation devolved into her Quartermaster– negotiating the way Quartermaster’s are wont to do. 

He paused, staring Airid down in a very serious manner than Dylan may have only seen a few times. ”If yah wan’ tha’… We wan’ yah tah give Mary back her memories and stop her from losin’ more of em. She’s a good lady an’ don’ deserve wha’ she’s goin’ through.“ "Mary. Mary Reed.” Airid said, “A kind woman– I was but ten when last she came to us.”

 Dylan looked sharply to Logan as if to say 'your fucking pirate is showing’. Though, she did like a good gamble and this was a big big big fucking gamble. Ordinarily, she’d be the one negotiating– but something kept her. 

 Airid’s jaw grit and everyone got deathly quiet. “You think that I can undo a price? Do you even know what she bargained for? Are you willing to hear the truth– because it may come at a cost. Cost of your lover’s peace of mind, and maybe even her life. Undoing old age, that’s what you’re asking. Magic has costs, you think it us? No, it is the balance of things and if I fuck with that, I’m taking a bigger risk than you understand.”

A price unpaid. And nothing could ever be easy. Of the things that followed in conversation– no matter how jarring, only one was of consequence to Dylan Reed.  “Did your father tell you? How he turned from a Light-fearing- navy man to a pirate? Your mother’s price was not her memory– it was giving up your father to the sea, so he could pay his debt and he never did. Your mind mother’s mind pays for that. I am sorry – but I cannot undo this, the price for your birth was never paid by your father. And now it falls to your mother.”

For all Airidia said, Dylan could only get out what mattered, “What was my father’s deb’?” More bickering. More trades of blows between Logan and Airid. More annoyances and delays. Then finally the matriarch spoke.  “What your father sought was an eye– some, call it the All Truth– others, like the trolls would call it the Eye of Mueh'Zala– though, I wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that’s anything more than legend. A looking glass which sees far beyond this realm.”

Dylan’s rage was instant– for she knew exactly where Eye was. Of all the pirates in all the world, Captain– nay, Admiral Kurel An’Diel. Two eyes, the Witch bitch said– one in Zandalar, which happened to be the one in Kurel’s possession. And another in some remote ‘we don’t know’ place. Which put Dylan, betraying the Dead Sun banner— or gallivanting across waters for months chasing leads. Dylan spat on the ground of the cave, “We’ll do it.” 

‘Captain Reed’. Eilithe’s voice came over the seal and Dylan couldn’t have looked more fucking annoyed. ‘Captain Reed, respond.’

‘Aye, Leydy Duskbringa’?’ ‘Northwest, fort he Broken Isles,’ she rattled of coordinates of  The Golden Bastard, and then The Queen’s Gambit. ‘Are you near?’  ‘Aye, Ma’am. Trouble?’ Of course there was trouble.  A plan came from the Arbiter then.

If there was one single thing that would make her stop right now– it was the chance at slaver’s throats. Dylan rose and looked to Logan, a Captain– not a lover. “Lez go,” she said to him, then looked to Airid. “I’ll get ya fucking Eye, woman. And it betta’ work or you’ll be attemptin’ anotha’ option.”  ‘We’ll be on tha’ sea in no less than an hour.’ She sent to Eilithe Aboard The Blind King Dylan stood in fully leathers, her hair tied back from her face. “Masta’ Derrington!” she shouted, “See all but eight men ready to go ashore, once we’ve blown every ship to pieces in this bay of slava’s– we’re rushin’ tha’ beaches.” She looked about, “An’ someone check with my Masta’gunna’. No mistakes boys, we’re huntin’ slava’s!”

@deadsunharbor @logan-derrington @kurel-andiel @eilitheduskbringer @wallwoop

[logan-derrington]

Logan hadn’t exactly attached at the hip but he wasn’t letting her get away. There was that night when they’d gotten drunk, playing a game of dice and sharing secrets. She’d put it to him hard. 

“Me... Or ya’ can be my quartermastah.” 

Logan had always, if nothing else, been greedy. There was something about Dylan that he just couldn’t get enough of. so he’d offered his retort.  “I wan’ both.”  She’d stared at him a long moment before pressing herself into him hard, the first moments of a long night spent twined together. 

-------------------------------

They’d gone to Booty bay next, for that much needed relaxation. Logan figured that at any moment, Dylan might be off and on to the next great thing, so he enjoyed what time he had with her. Long nights drinking and rutting on the porch of her little bungalow where spent until Logan felt like he wanted to show her to a place he kept well secret.  A goblin bartender seemed to know him and they joked and shared mildly tense moments of friendship until it was suggested they play cards. Logan wasn’t a fool. He’d wanted Dylan there for a reason. There was no one luckier and no one better at stacking a deck than her. 

They’d won a a little map, something scratched on a spare piece of paper that led them to the jungle outside the port town. A puzzle waited for them, costing them blood to open a door that led to a circular room with seven pillars and a dais with a smoky, bleeding rose inside a glass case. When they removed the case, the pillars churned into shadowy smoke, which in turn resolved into seven figures standing around the room. 

“We are the Council of Seven...” 

Of course that left Logan and Dylan nearly back to back, turning in slow circles to look over the figures. A litany of questions was asked and the figures always answered. Apparently Logan had been drawn here, he was marked by the shadow-crossed. Dylan was to receive the touch too.  “Firs’ ya gotta tell me jus’ wha’ tha fuck is goin’ on here.” 

So the Seven agreed, forming into one figure before grabbing them both and taking them to a realm of shadow and darkness. 

They were told of gates in the land of shadow, gates that held back terrible things. The Seven even showed them the future, if the gates were to fall. The world, consumed by creatures the size of cities, devouring everything they came across and remaking it in shadow. 

So Dylan agreed. She took the touch. The pair were left standing in the room they’d found the rose, except now there was nothing. Just them. They quickly left and it was once they were outside that Dylan finally spoke again. 

“Ya evah feel like ya jus’ started somethin’ big?” 

( @givemetheopensea )

darling

A vacation seemed well deserved, Dylan hadn��t taken time off from Dead Sun in the six years she’d been running drugs and the like for Eilithe Duskbringer, barring a long three months she’d been captured. And so, she left– with her ship and most of her crew. Most of which were none the wiser to the little building in the back streets of Upton called, fondly Miss Periwinkle’s Home for the Elderly. 

It wasn’t simply out of the goodness of her heart, Dylan was going to see her mother, but rather that a reoccurring dream– one she’d had since childhood was plaguing her. During her three month stent adrift and gods know where, she’d lost an item which her mother had always said was her protection. And it was at the bottom of the sea– somewhere between fuck you and nowhere.

Since the night she’d spent bent over her bed with Logan, he’d attached himself to her hip. What was worse was that she’d started not to mind. On the steps of the home, this was the last place she wanted him or anyone else tagging along. 

Mary Reed looked nothing like Dylan, her hair was brilliant red– even in her old age. She was always smiling, staring down at a recipe through little glasses that balanced at the end of her nose. 

“Missus Reed, you have a visitor,” Perwinkle was a kindly human, younger even than Dylan.  “OoooOoooh, a visitor.” Mary said, adjusting her glasses.  “Ma…ma it’s me.” “DARLA!” Mary bellowed, running to hug her up. It was almost childlike, the way the old woman clung to her. “Tha’s righ’ ma, is Darla. You okay? You bakin’ muffins?”  “I like blueberries!” The old woman said. “Who’s this!?” Mary waddled over to Logan’s arm to hold it. “Did you make an honest woman outta my Darla? Am I gonna have me some grandbabies?”  “Motha’...”  Mary cooed, “I neva’ could have any babies.” She said it like she was in a dream. Dylan shot her a look, but her mother was already shuffling off to get her box of keepsakes to show off. Logan was good with her mother, a charmer– sweet, even to the old woman. With their muffins, the two whispered back and forth, sharing secrets and soft giggles. 

“Miss Periwinkle,” Dylan said, crossing her arms to beside the caretaker. “Tell me, an’ do it honestly.”  The caretaker was kind in her delivery that Mary Reed had but a year maybe a year and a half before her mind was no longer her own. And there was no slowing it– no cure for it. 

“Motha’“ Dylan said, kneeling before her, “I need you to try an’ rememba’ for me. You rememba’ those nigh’mares? Tha’ faces of those women huddled?”

“Oh, you had such terrible nigh’mares. Scream an’ cry you would. Tha’ witches! They can help!” Mary Reed smiled and leaned her head against Logan’s arm and looked over at him with a big smile. “I like blueberries.”  Logan smiled, “Me too, Missus Mary.” 

“Motha’ I need you to tell me how to find ‘em.”  Mary cooed, “They said I’d forget! They told me– but I would have paid any price.” She leaned forward to cup Dylan’s cheek. “My sweet Darla, my only girl.” Whatever moment of clarity she was having– it was a rare one, because her next words were incredibly clear. “Fallhaven, head into the mountains until they crest– follow the path down. The cave is there.” It passed so quickly before Mary slowly sat back. “Nap.. a nap sounds nice.” 

“You take your nap, motha’.” She stood and kissed her mother’s head, catching Logan pocket something or other– to which she prayed to Light and Tide the fuck hadn’t just been bold enough to steal from her mother. 

It was a walk to the harbor in Boralus– one that she made silently beside Logan. As her boots hit the deck there was shouting that the Captain had returned.  “Anchor up, sailin’ for Drus’var.” 

@logan-derrington​

[logan-derrington]