(The rights for the Charactersketches are mine.
I have no idea why it won't show up at the top, so I'll attach it at the end of the chapter under the author notes, for those interested. If you want to imagine the character as you wish, I'll issue a warning above the pic so you can skip it.)
This Chapter contains indirect mentions of Death.
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"I've labored long and hard for bread,
For honor, and for riches,
But on my corns too long you've tread,
You fine-haired sons of bitches."
— Black Bart, 1877
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A giant appears
In the midst of chaos, right at the center of destruction there were all-too-human eyes — watching, waiting, anticipating an already calculated outcome.
If he had any thoughts of his own, regarding the destruction he caused around himself, he didn't let anything be shown, didn't mutter a single word.
He ignored the Why's and If's, the outcries of a No or any longer attempt to get him to explain himself.
Bullets could be fired and Cannonballs could crack open the ship's skeleton, but nothing tonight was as fear striking a sound as the rustle and whipping of a reptilians tail swishing up and down as calm and cold as the expression he held underneath his helmet.
They were all witnesses of one will, one justice and one rising sun, cementing its further existence. The other side of the conflict struggling since the beginning;
The inevitable outcome becoming clearer by the minute.
The finishing blow had been a huge gap in the line of battle, as one of the enemy ships fell behind — destroying the rhythm of others and giving the pirate hunter a chance to break through; and now fire from both sides.
The most dangerous projectile at sea wasn't a pistol, neither was it the cannon directly. No, the most dangerous and inescapable weapons were the splinters ripped out of the ship, being catapulted all around the place in a speed no one would be able to outrun or dodge.
Next an explosion tore through the air.
Raban's eyes twitched in the direction of the sudden noise.
»Someone accidentally set the fire powder ablaze«
It wasn't an unheard occurrence. At sea there were often side effects of chaos on board the own ship. The more people, the bigger the hustle.
He stood up rather slowly, leaning onto elegantly decorated crutches, the eyes of his officers setting on him at once.
With a quiet voice he gave his instruction:
"Search for Survivors."
His second-in-command just nodded and rushed away to give them to his crewmen immediately.
"Survivor, survivor, survivor..."
The crows' words started getting clearer again. Black shadows haunting around the ship, occasionally -if the light was right- shimmering in all the colors one could imagine.
Their many eyes focused on the tall man, ensuring his safety.
Not that his presence indicated any need for these silent guardians. He was an imposing figure, despite his lanky limbs and slender frame. His arms didn't shook the slightest, supporting his weight and the armor he wore, making his movements more fluid and controlled than those of anyone else on the ship.
The wooden elevation with something similar to a throne on top, making him look down on everything happening on deck, just like his birds looked down upon him.
Maybe they were attracted to the crew's shining armor, just as he was interested in making the Pandora appear as much like an actual military vessel as possible.
YOU ARE READING
The Uncrowned Lord Of The Sea
Fantasy"Hail those whose names will never be remembered." ••• Singing planets, lightning used as tree branches by flying snakes, and a world that screams out the unfinished state it was left in. The Starstream is a dangerous place and just as chaotic and...
