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sapphicsylvari · 4 years

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The Rise of the Dread Fleet Chapter 2: A Bold Move

Thank you all for your coontinued support on this series! I means the world to me and there’s a good chance your tags on a reblog have literally made my day before. Love you!!

@tyrias-library

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Asha can still feel Raya's cold gaze upon her as she meanders along the Lion's Arch harbors. The Siren is hiding the waters, keeping pace with her.

It had taken them three whole days to reach the mainland again, Asha on a makeshift float, Raya pushing her forward, keeping her safe from the dangers of the Sea.

As she'd explained on their journey, Raya had defended her from other Sirens, who had flocked to her bound form like moths to a flame, and injured several in the process. That had caused the swarm to cast her out. Raya's only choice was to stay with Asha, as loneliness is lethal for her kin.

Now that Asha's terror had burned away, her new focus is on her anger. Years of mistreatment at the hands of her father, and fighting back gets her executed? It's not fair, she thinks, as she continues on her path.

Revenge is on her mind, but she's just a little girl with an overly attached fish lady in tow. She needs funds. She needs a ship, she needs a crew. Now, where does a young pirate acquire funds to entice people to join her?

Asha's eyes narrow as she spots a lone Asura wandering into a alleyway. He barely comes up to her elbow. Bingo. After a quick glance over her shoulder and a nod toward Raya in the water, Asha jogs in after him, draws the crude knife she had Raya scavenge off the ocean floor. The Asura hasn't noticed her yet, so she seizes the opportunity to grab him by the shoulder and push him to the wall.

“Your money or your life.” she hisses at him and the Asura sighs deeply. “Miss, you really don't wanna do this.” he tells her, sounding more apologetic than frightened. “I'm pretty sure I do, Mate. Pay up.” Asha's been through too much to be shy here. “No, honestly, this is a bad idea.” he presses, pausing briefly when Asha lifts her knife to his throat. “Oh dear.”

Before Asha can react, she's got his fist in her stomach, a kick to the shin, and a heavy uppercut to her chin. Pain flares, and the world fades.

When Asha comes to, she is lying on a matress, covered up to her chest in a thin blanket. The scent of medicinal herbs stings in her nose and she groans, sitting up slowly. The blanket is pushed up at the foot end of her bed, and there he is, the Asura, currently in the process of bandaging up her shin.

“What the...” she mutters, still dizzy with a skull-splitting headache. “I told you, you don't wanna do this.” he says, without even looking up from his work. “But you just had to pull a knife on me. I had no choice.”

“You beat me unconscious?” she asks, still trying to piece together what had happened. “Yes. In self-defense, mind you. I bear no ill will.” the Asura clarifies. “No, I mean-... you? You're like....” “Small and weak?” he cuts her off. “Probably. Compared to a Charr. But not compared to you. When's the last time you had a warm meal?”

Asha is caught off guard by this question. “Uh.” “I don't know what led you down this dark, lawless path, kid, but I assure you, not everyone that looks like an easy target is actually an easy target.” he continues on. “Besides, you're too thin and you smell like you just came out of the ocean. Really, the odds were against you.”

“I did come out of the ocean, in a way.” Asha admits, as the Asura ties up the bandage.

“You did?” he asks, finally looking up to her. He looks... very unlike his punches may suggest. His big, beady eyes carry a permanently concerned look, and his long, white hair is tied up in a comically large antenna-like hairdo, straight up in a ninety-degree angle.

“Yeah. Say, you lookin' for employment? I'm trying to start a crew.” Asha cuts straight to the chase, leaving the Asura frozen in disbelief for a second. “I-... what? You tried to rob me, and now you want to recruit me?” “I mean, yes? You clearly know how to fight and I could use you.” Asha confirms. “Look, I was raised on a ship. If I can gather enough people to steal one, I can sail it.” “Why do you want a ship? You look like a common street rat.” the Asura inquires and Asha snorts.

“Look who's talkin'.” she jabs. “I want a ship because I was cast overboard unjustly, clawed my way back to land, and now I want revenge. But I clearly can't do much on my own, as I just proved to you. So, you had the heart to patch me up after beating the shit out of me, why not help me?”

The Asura's hands hover idly over her leg and he looks at her with a blank expression, processing what she's suggesting to him.

“Kid.” he finally speaks. “How old are you?”

“I'm fifteen.” “Oh dear.” He stops to rub his temples. “Well, I'll give you one thing, you have ambition. But you're also right about another issue – you won't last long without help. I'm already too invested in you to let you die on that ludicrous quest. I'll help.”

“Awesome. When I get a ship, I'll make you my First Mate.”

“...You don't even know my name yet, do you?”

“Right. What's your name?”

Another beat of hesitation in disbelief of the sheer nerve Asha has “It's Snezz.”

–

After Taidha's death, most of her men have dispersed and fled from the Lionguard forces swarming the fortress. Vaixx himself has taken the chance to slip away, before Sebba could change her mind about keeping her word, making his way back to Raxxi's hideout.

She's there, alright, blood streaming down her face, currently in the process of frying the last of her attackers alive. When Vaixx enters her field of vision, she looks up, almost looking feral, teeth bares and eyes wide with battle-fueled adrenaline.

“Took ya long enough!” she gasps at him. There are three deep gashes on her face, and the blood spilling from her mouth implies that she lost a few teeth.

“Apologies, overthrowing a tyrant isn't a ten-minute-errand.” Vaixx counters. “You okay?” “Been better.” Raxxi actually spits out a tooth. “Where's your Lionguard buddy?” “Probably arresting people. She kept her word.” “Surprising. Let's get the fuck out of here before she goes back on that.”

Vaixx grimaces. “Exactly my idea. C'mon.” The two quickly make their way through the same secret entrance they came from, ad have themselves helped back on board of the Rascal.

After a bath, stitches to the face, and a hot drink to the gullet, Raxxi and Vaixx are back in Rowan's old quarters, now sans his corpse.

“Right. Now what?” Raxxi opens the discussion, while Vaixx pours them both mugs of rum.

“Now we sail to LA and get support from your brother.” he responds. “With Taidha gone, there is a vaccuum in the tyrian pirate scene. He would probably see the benefit in having that filled by us, as opposed to someone else.”

“He would. Because that means he can control us.” Raxxi says, accepting the mug Vaixx is handing her. “So? He's not exactly malicious toward us and his goals align with ours.”

“Look, Mate.” Raxxi sighs. “I hate to shit on your parade, but isn't that basically what Taidha was to us? Someone we were dependant on? The only difference is that this dependancy isn't manpower, but money.”

“Yeah, but I like your brother, unlike Taidha.” “You called him a small-eared bureaucrat.” “That was in college, and I was drunk.”

“He does have small ears, though.”

Vaixx grins. “Point is, I like him. And I think he can help us.” “Might as well join is damn guild at this point.” Raxxi grumbles. “Honestly, why not? Or at least affiliate with the Grudge? Why not get him on board with the entire project, beyond just investing?” “Because-... Okay, look, fine. But let me do the talking.”

The next morning, still slightly hungover, the two pirates stand in the lobby of a very fancy building in Lion's Arch, both holding glasses of expensive elonian wine in their hands, piping up when the large, winged door at the front side of the lobby opens. A young, human woman beckons them closer. “Mister Vermillion will see you now.” she says, and Raxxi follows her, Vaixx in tow, while sarcastically imitating her.

The room behind the door is a lavishly furnished office, and behind the mahogany desk resides an Asura, lounging in a red velvet seat. He's well dressed, a monocle framing one of his bright blue eyes as he waves offhandedly to his apparent receptionist to leave them alone. He has short hair, similar to Raxxi, but deep crimson as opposed to her blue. Quincy Vermillion, as Raxxi's twin brother Raxx calls himself in Lion's Arch sits up properly to face his visitors.

“Raxxi.” he greets her. “And your friend Vaixx. What brings me the honor?” His voice is neutral, and he gives Raxxi's injuries, as well as Vaixx's bandaged shoulder a scrutinizing glance.

“Money. We want money.” Raxxi blurts out. “We all do, sister dearest.” Quincy answers. “I assume, it is an emergency, judging by your state?”

“Sorta. We offed Taidha and Vaixx wants to start a fleet of his own.” Raxxi wastes no time with formalities. “And for that, we need your help.”

“Ah.” Quincy hums, a hint of glee in his eyes. “I heard of Rowan's death. I could have assumed that an ambitious man such as you, Vaixx, would rise to the occasion.” “Rowan's death was a tragedy.” Vaixx presses forth. “As is the death of his young daughter. I do wonder which hurts you most, the demise of your Captain, or your duty to kill a child?”

“That's not the point here.” Raxxi interjects, before that topic can be explored any further. “This is the one opportunity we have to become the new, dominant fleet in the Sea of Sorrows. You have to see that.”

“Oh, I do see that. And I know of your capabilities as a pirate.” he admits. “But the Rascal is an old ship. She will not get you very far. If you do this on my budget, you will do it properly. Gather a crew and I will give you the ships you need.” Raxxi draws breath to speak, but Quincy continues before she can do so. “In exchange,” he adds. “I want a monthy percentage of your winnings, let us say fifteen percent for now. That is only fair, considering my stake in this.” “Ten.” says Raxxi. “Thirteen.” Quincy fires back. “Twelve.” “Fine.” Quincy reaches over the table and offers them his hand to shake.

Vaixx takes it, feeling an unusual coldness from Quincy's touch.

“Very well then. I believe we all have work to do.” Quincy says upo withdrawing from the handshake.

–

“Now,” Snezz says, after swallowing his ale. “If you want to assemble a crew, you need to offer people something they need. And right now, you have little more to offer tha your company. If I hadn't been without direction and purpose in my current life stage, I wouldn't have agreed, no matter how endearing your recklessness is.”

“Desperate and lonely people, got it.” Asha says. They're in one of the cheaper taverns in the city, having dinner on Snezz' bill. He had insisted Asha get at least a full meal before agreeing to anything else. “That's not what I-...” “I know that's not what you said, but we both know it's what you meant.” Asha points at him with her fork for emphasis.

“Fair. Remember, you're a teenager covered in bruises. You have to make up for that with charisma. Try aiming low for now. Street rats, common bandits and the like. You won't have much luck with-...” “That Charr!” “What?”

Asha points at a few tables over, at a large, dissheveled looking Charr, currently brooding over a long-empty mug of ale. “That one looks miserable enough.” “Asha, you can't just go over there and-...” Snezz interrupts himself as the girl gets up and limps over to the Charr's table, plopping herself down opposite of them. “Oh dear.”

“Hi.” Asha greets the Charr, who looks up from the empty mug. “You lost?” she asks, not really interested in a conversation. “No, I meant to approach you. You look like you could use some company.” Asha responds and snatches the empty mug from the Charr's hands. “Hey barkeep, a refill for this one!”

“I don't-...” “Yes, you do. Anyone as mopey as you needs more alcohol.” Asha insists. “What do you know about alcohol? You're, like, twelve!” “Fifteen, thank you very much. And I know enough. I was raised on a pirate ship.” She offers her hand to the Charr. “Asha Gaets. Who're you?”

“Aurelia Sharp-... Just Aurelia.” The Charr takes her hand in her much larger one, the pads of her retracted claws smooth against Asha's skin.

“Sharp? Sharp what?” Asha prods and Aurelia pulls a grimace. “Sharpwit. Used to be my warband name. But I'm... not really supposed to use it anymore.” she admits. “Kicked out?” Asha inquires. “Something like that. It's complicated.”

“So that's why you're moping around all by yourself.” Asha deduces, while a waitress hands Aurelia a fresh beer. “I'm not 'moping around':” she insists. “Whatever you wanna call it, I think you need some new friends, that won't kick you out for some reason.” Asha offers. “I'm looking for new friends too, you know. See that dweeby Asura over there? I tried to mug him, he beat me up and then treated my injuries. We're friends now.” “Your definition of friendship seems, uh...” “No, really. He's paying for my food. Oh, and your beer.” Asha says. “Point is, we're looking for people to sail out into the Sea of Sorrows with, and you don't seem to have anythig better to do, so why not come along? Got anything to lose?”

“My life?” Aurelia suggests and Asha snorts.

“Oh yeah, you've got a great one here, rotting away in smelly taverns getting wasted. C'mon, don't be grumpy and start over. I had to do that too!”

Aurelia takes a long swig of her mug, then sets it down on the table hard.

“Point taken. What's the mission?”

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