Captain Elsbeth said, “We will restock and depart first thing tomorrow morning. I would suggest not leaving my ship on your own at any time. Pirate’s Belly goes by its own rules—there are none.”
A horn trumpeted from within the cavern. It was a deeply resonating sound. Cheers began to escalate from pirates aboard other ships and those working on the docks.
“What is happening?” Lufra questioned.
Captain Elsbeth looked portside, “That sound heralds their fearless leader’s return.”
A galleon, slightly larger than A Pinch of Luck, came into view as it entered the vast chamber. Its flag did not bear a pirate symbol, but instead a red rose. Within minutes it cruised into port and docked adjacent to them on the other side of the pier. It was quickly tethered and Elsbeth’s crew mingled with the newly arrived shipmates. The heroes gathered on the railing looking for the commander of the vessel.
Raina stepped toward Captain Elsbeth to ask if they would be able to meet the Pirate Governor of the unusual settlement, but Elsbeth turned to face the opposite direction and smiled broadly, giving Raina her answer. The mystic began to turn with Elsbeth in expectation of the forthcoming introduction.
“You’ve brought guests to Pirate’s Belly,” a mysterious, smooth voice came from behind the adventurers. Startled, the other heroes turned.
Before them stood an impressive pirate, who wore dark blue velvet pants, black boots, and a white, billowy, long sleeved shirt with frills around the cuffs and collar. His greatly plumed hat, along with the downward tilt of his head, concealed his face from view.
“May I introduce you to my acquaintances? These are the ones responsible for the demise of King Manasseh,” said Elsbeth.
“We are honored to have such heroes among us. My name is Romann de Beaux. Welcome to my humble home.” He pulled off his maroon hat and bowed elegantly. The swashbuckler stood back up, displaying his pale face, with eyes that swirled red and blue like a whirlpool. His smile revealed pearly white teeth with two prominent fangs.
The group of heroes were wise enough not to insult the creature by announcing their surprise aloud. That is, all of them, except one.
“You’re a vampire,” Trillius chimed in awe.
“Forgive—” Elsbeth began, but Romann held up his hand to stop her.
“And what is your name?” he asked. He kneeled down as if talking to a child.
The gnome answered tremulously, “My name is Trillius.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Well little-one, since we are being candid, I will call you Snack.” Romann lifted his lip slightly to reveal one of his fangs while emphasizing his last word. Trillius back peddled away and clung to El’Korr. The dwarf was pleased, as he knew this encounter would keep the gnome on board the ship.
Romann stood and reached into his hat. A light glow shone out from the brim of the magical item as he pulled out a long-stemmed red rose, “From one captain to another.” He gave it to Elsbeth. She took it, brought it to her nose, and smelled the fragrant flower.
He then motioned toward his ship and offered, “I would like to dine with you and the elves this evening aboard The Rose,” he hesitated a moment, then added, “unless of course your dwarvenkind would like to join us as well.”
El’Korr spoke up, “We appreciate your invitation, but my bodyguard and I have urgent matters to attend to this evening, and plan to stay aboard.”
“But of course, I will accept,” Elsbeth responded with a smile. She looked to Xan and Raina’s nods, adding, “We look forward to it.”
“As do I.” And with that, he suddenly evaporated into a white swirling mist and vanished.
Trillius began to breathe heavily, and then with excitement called for Rozelle.
“What is it?” she responded.
“Do you know what this means,” he said, still gasping for air.
“What?”
“I just met a vampire and lived to tell about it.”
“Oh, brother,” she began to walk away.
“My reputation is going to soar! Woo-hoo!”
El’Korr pointed his finger in Trillius’s face, “Listen here, Gnome-skull, you are to stay on this ship or I will hand deliver you to that vamp myself.”
Trillius fearfully smirked and then gulped.
Although Pirate’s Belly appeared to be cloaked in perpetual night due to the lack of natural light allowed within the confines of the massive cavern, even during the midday sun, it was quite apparent that the evening had arrived. The Alley became much louder as raucous men partied with bottles of booze in one hand and flirting bar maidens in the other. Crewmen moved in packs and clashes between rivals occurred frequently. Music echoed out of the many taverns and increased in volume each time a door swung open.
Raina and Xan accompanied Captain Elsbeth to Romann’s ship, looming across the dock from them, while the other heroes remained on board A Pinch of Luck, with plans to finish inventory, send runners out for final supplies, and then enjoy an evening of drinking. Being in such a harbor meant everyone’s favorites were readily available—a rare treat.
As they walked, Raina commented, “Vampires usually isolate themselves. I’m curious how he came to be the captain of a ship, and furthermore the leader of Pirate’s Belly.”
Elsbeth replied, “I apologize for not preparing you. Romann de Beaux is a different individual. Before he transformed he was a great hero of these oceans, and actually fought against the pirates as a military patrol ship for the West Horn King. He adventured with a group called the Company of the Rose—saving damsels in distress, helping the less fortunate, and killing evil creatures of the realm—until he was betrayed.”
“So it is revenge he seeks?” Xan stated.
“That is uncertain; he is indeed a private individual, but I do know he enjoys his solitude on the ocean aboard his ship. Pirate’s Belly is a place he can gather information and keep track of his enemies, though he has few.”
Suddenly, a gurgled scream jolted them from their discourse. They watched as a group of sailors from the Alley threw a corpse into the water below, yelling pirate obscenities and spitting at it, “Suck blow-hole, Deemmot!”
Raina brought everyone’s attention back to their discussion, “And how did you meet Romann de Beaux?”
“Anyone who has a ship will eventually meet him. As it turns out, he fancies elves.”
“Hopefully not because of our blood,” Xan’s face soured a bit.
“No, not because of that, otherwise, I would not be here. He connects with our kind because of our natural longevity and our ability to carry a meaningful conversation. It’s hard for a vampire to have many friends when his soul is eternally damned, and the humans he knows tend to live less than a century.”
“Dwarves live long as well, why only elves?” Raina questioned.
“I believe it is the candor and roughness of their kind that deters him from any real friendship. He has a great deal of respect for their race, though his intensified sense of smell makes it hard for him to be around anyone who has enjoyed dwarven mead, even if it has been awhile since their last taste.”
Xan added, “It might be something else he is smelling.”
They chuckled as they arrived at The Rose and were escorted to Romann’s private cabin. Candle sconces hung on the dark mahogany walls. Paintings depicting ghost ships on dark seas hung between the sconces. There was no bed in his quarters; he spent his sleepless nights moving silently and watchfully about his ship. This night, an ornate, coal-colored pearl table with a red rose emblazoned on the top was their dining destination. Romman sat in a leather chair at the head. His silky, sandy-blonde hair draped perfectly down to his shoulders. Three other chairs surrounded the dining table. Platters of grapes and cheeses sat on top with uncorked bottles and golden goblets. The sweet aroma of Elven wine brought back intense memories of Raina and Xan’s gatherings in the High Elven courts in the days of old.
Romann stood as they entered, “Welcome. Please come in and sit.”
r />
“Thank you for having us, Captain,” Raina said.
“Would you care for some wine?”
“Why, yes. We couldn’t pass up Elven wine.” Raina reached for a bottle but before she could grab hold, it suddenly levitated and poured in her chalice on its own.
“I prefer unseen servants, to keep our privacy. A handy spell that I like to conjure. I’m sure you can relate, mistress Raina?”
“Of course,” she smiled.
The wine bottle moved magically along the table, pouring its red liquid into one goblet and then the next. A second bottle, different than the first, poured a substance, thicker in viscosity, into Romann’s chalice, and only his.
“I’d like to propose a toast.” Everyone raised their golden, gem encrusted, goblets. “To future endeavors and new friendships.” As he drank, his eyes closed and his lids fluttered in delight of his drink.
Elsbeth asked, “How have the seas been treating you?”
“Ah, small talk. How quaint, but I would like to hear about the Pearl of the Deep, and your quest for it.”
Xan coughed a little bit. Raina set her drink back on the table and responded, “Have you heard of the Dragon God?”
“Oh, that sounds menacing. Do tell; I love a good story.” His eyes glowed with intrigue.
Rozelle emerged from the deck below and spotted El’Korr, Rondee, and Lufra admiring the construction of the pirate’s cove.
“Have any of you seen Trillius?” she asked.
El’Korr turned and responded, “I’m sure he is around here somewhere.”
“I’ve looked, and now I’m a little concerned.”
“He wouldn’t leave the ship, not with that vampire’s threat lingering.” He paused, “Or would he?”
“My guess is he went in there.” She pointed to the Alley.
“Damn that infernal gnome,” El’Korr said through gritted teeth. “C’mon, we need to go get him.”
Trillius moved easily within the shadows of the street. Drunken pirates gathered near several fire pits, singing songs with their arms draped around cackling women. Others stumbled in and out of the many taverns that adorned the Alley. He had to pick the right establishment as this place was a one-stop-shop. After several minutes of studying, it came down to two: the Fish Head or the Peg Leg.
“Such original names for pirates,” Trillius mocked under his breath. An eruption of cheers came from the Fish Head. “That’s the place.”
He weaved through the throngs of humans dressed in an assortment of non-matching clothing, pick-pocketing a few of the drunken humans as he waded deeper into the tavern. Most of them didn’t notice the three-foot gnome; the ones that did couldn’t believe what their scar-covered, inebriated eyes were seeing. Trillius quickly discovered his target—the high-rollers table of Pirate’s Belly. He watched them play a few hands to understand the game they called Bottoms Up. Then he jingled his leather pouch to check that he had enough. It would do.
Four colorful individuals sat at the table holding cards. To Trillius’ right was Scurvy Joe, a bony pirate with a bright red bandana covering his head and a skinny body that didn’t match his scratchy voice. The second at the table was called Tigg. He had multiple earrings in both ears and a large silver nose-ring. His dark head of long hair mingled with his wooly back hair that seemed to sprout out from behind his leather vest. The third was known as Patch. A faded seashell tied with hide straps around his head covered his left eye. His brown hair and short stubble beard reminded Trillius of an illustrated pirate out of a book he’d once seen as a child. The last was the largest of the group. He was called Big Jack. His head was shaved, and a scar ran down the left side of his face, from above the eye to the lower jaw. He chewed on tobacco, spitting the sickening spittle into a mug on the table.
Trillius made his way toward them; bolstering his confidence, he thought, “You can do this, Trillius. You just met a vampire.” The four men had just finished a hand. They glared at the approaching gnome.
The shouts and laughter of the crowd dwindled as Trillius asked, “Is there room for one more?” He then jingled the coins and set his money pouch on the table, which was of such a height that he could just barely peer over.
“I don’t be seein any harm in havin one more at th’table,” Big Jack said in a deep voice.
The gnome climbed onto a chair and smiled at each of them, his face barely showing above the table surface. Several bystanders from the gathered crowd started laughing at him openly. A barmaid from somewhere shouted, “What are you sniffin at with that nose?” This caused a huge outburst of laughter. Trillius felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine at the thought of what kind of disease he would catch staying too long here.
“I’m here to learn how to play cards,” Trillius said.
Big Jack chuckled, “Oh, ye’ll be learnin how t’lose at playin cards t’night, little-one.”
Trillius’ gold and silver pieces slowly dwindled as he lost one game after the other.
Scurvy Joe asked in a raspy voice, “You ready t’cough up th’rest o’yer coin an hand’t over t’me, ya lilly livered gnome?”
“I think I’m ready for a comeback and to teach you boys about gnome-economics.”
Tigg scowled, “nome what?”
“Nevermind. It is beyond your great intelligence.”
Patch slapped Tigg on the back and guffawed, “I think he just insulted ye, ye ol sea dog.”
Tigg spun around pointed a long finger at Patch and growled, “Don’t ye be touchin me again, one-eye.”
While the others were distracted, Trillius slid his dexterous hand into Big Jack’s belt pouch and lifted a small, smooth, spherical object. He kept it in his clasped fist as he said simply, “I just hope none of you is cheating me.”
With that, the drunken pirates eyed one another and leered at the largest pile of money, currently held by Big Jack. Trillius, who had positioned himself to sit between Big Jack and Tigg, hopped down from his chair, “I’m gonna get a drink. Would you boys care for another?” Trillius made it over to Scurvy Joe who was on the other side of the table when Big Jack barked, “Get aft in yer chair gnome. No one leaves th’table. We be havin wenches t’shag yer drinks.”
“Hey, my stack of money looks a little shorter!” Trillius pointed to his spot across the table.
All the players turned their heads to look and while they were distracted, Trillius planted the small pawned object, which he noticed was a pearl, into Scurvy Joe’s pocket.
“No one has touched yer coin. Now get aft in yer seat!” Big Jack ordered.
Trillius quickly lifted his hands in surrender and walked back, “Fine.”
“Now deal the cards, Tigg!” Patch demanded loudly.
The game resumed and Trillius won the next several hands, until his pile of coins was the largest on the table.
More mugs of grog were delivered and the tension rose.
In the next round, Trillius delivered a punishing blow to Patch and Tigg. He knocked them out of the game. However, as he reached to rake in his winnings, Patch grabbed his wrist, “I smell a cheatin’ rat.”
“You’re crazy, gnomes don’t cheat, I won fair and square. Though I did see someone take something at this table.”
Patch released his grip, everyone eyed each other suspiciously. Trillius scooped his winnings into his pouch as he knew the finale was on its way.
“Which one, gnome?” Scurvy Joe asked.
How appropriate that it was him, he thought. Trillius responded, “Why don’t you tell us.”
“What? I don’t know what ye be talkin about.”
“You might want to check his pockets.”
Scurvy Joe searched himself until he pulled forth the pearl. He stared at it in shock.
Big Jack jumped to his feet shoving his chair out into the crowd of onlookers. He pointed at Scurvy Joe and shouted, “Hey, that be me lucky pearl.”
Scurvy Joe was flustered, he stammered, “No, Big Jack, I be hornswaggled.”
Scurvy Joe’s plea fell on deaf ears. Big Jack tossed the table aside; mugs of back-washed Grog flew into spectating pirates and cards flipped in all directions. He smashed his fist into Scurvy Joe’s jaw, cracking the bone. Drunken pirates scrambled to sweep up the coins rolling around the floor from the upturned table, which caused more skirmishes to break out. Trillius slinked his small body through the jumbled mess of humans with his heavy, loot-filled sack in tow.
Young Lufra studied the long line of taverns lining the Alley, turned to El’Korr and asked, “What are we waiting for?”
“It’s too risky to go poking around each of these joints looking for the pipsqueak.”
Rozelle was concerned, “But what if he’s in danger?”
“That gnome is a danger to himself. It’s just a matter of time before he alerts us to his whereabouts.”
Suddenly, from a tavern midway down the Alley, they heard hoots and hollers of the celebrants change abruptly to screams and grunts. Pirates and women clamored through windows and doors to escape the action inside the establishment, while other pirates fought their way inside to join the brawl.
“He’s in there. I can feel it in my dwarven bones.”
They rushed to the Fish Head tavern, where they heard glass being smashed inside. A chair flew out an open window and crashed into the street.
“You two stay out here while Rondee and I head in. Keep an eye open for Mister Guinea-sack.”
The powerful fighters, El’Korr and Rondee, ran into the tavern slamming their fists into bloated guts and whiskered jaws; tossing pirates around like sacks of grain.
Trillius escaped through a side window of the tavern and hid in the shadows outside. He looked up and down the Alley and instantly spotted Lufra and Rozelle, focused on the bar, standing in the street. He easily snuck up behind them.
“You guys out for a leisurely stroll this fine evening?” asked Trillius.