Rylan did his best not to think about the expanse below him as he transferred all of his weight to his arms and pulled himself up out of the fog inlet.
He opted to climb using only his arms, not willing to test the harpoon’s grip by bracing his legs against the stone of the cliff. Between the floaty fog and his 3 in Strength, it was easy enough.
The last few feet up to the docks would be the most challenging, but he figured he could—
[Hold on, Boss, a couple of soldiers are coming this way!]
Rylan froze just below the driftline. Glancing up through the stone, he noticed some bobbing white lights coming closer.
Please don’t notice the harpoon, please don’t notice the harpoon!
He held his breath, feeling rather grateful for the way his Stealth Skill made his Mana Shell dampen sound, as his heartbeat sounded really loud in his ears.
Thankfully, the group passed by at a decent distance, and didn’t halt.
[All right, you’re in the clear, Boss!]
Rylan immediately heaved himself up, his weight steadily increasing as he pulled himself up out of the fog until he was able to put one hand on the edge of the docks, then a second.
He pulled then pushed himself up, finally getting his legs into play as he swung one onto the edge and used it to leverage himself up and over the edge. The moment he was secure on the stone, he scrambled for the harpoon, grabbing it and pushing down on it to keep it properly in place. Then he pulled the rope twice. A moment later, it pulled taut.
Rylan furtively glanced around as he waited for the next person to climb up. He saw some soldiers clad in black and yellow moving in the distance. Thankfully, however, none of them seemed to be looking or coming their way.
Leahna grabbed onto the ledge, and Rylan reached back to help pull her onto the dock, before glomming onto the harpoon and once more shaking the rope.
Meanwhile, Leahna took her bow off her back, drew an arrow from her quiver, and nocked it.
Their luck held out, and soon Nazyr and Yuel were up on the dock as well.
Rylan shook the rope and it pulled taut. This time, however, instead of pushing the harpoon down, he picked it up. Nazyr grabbed onto the rope as well, bracing himself while Yuel took up position by the ledge with Leahna.
“Are you ready, dad?” Leahna whispered.
“Ready darling!”
Looking rather nervous, Leahna glanced back and nodded at them.
Rylan and Nazyr started to reel in the rope, slow and steady. It chafed over the docks as Artoran moved up through the fog.
A shout in the distance caused Rylan to glance to the centre of the docks. A small squad of soldiers carrying back wounded had appeared from an alley, and one of them was pointing at them.
Not good!
Rylan and Nazyr were clearly of one mind, as they immediately started hauling the rope in faster.
The soldiers seemed to be hesitating for a moment. One wearing slightly fancier leather armour barked something. Then the ones carrying the wounded kept going, and the other eight or so drew their weapons.
A few of them had bows, but Leahna fired first.
A glowing arrow flew at the soldiers, forcing two of them to jump aside before a third was clipped on the shoulder.
“Quinthar!” their commander shouted. “Retreat and get backup!”
The soldiers rushed back into the alley, returning fire as they ducked for cover. Most of their arrows went wide, pinging off the limestone docks. However, one of them, whether through luck or skill, headed straight for Nazyr.
Letting out a choice curse, Nazyr let himself drop to the pavement. Despite the quick manoeuvre, the arrow still grazed his ear. Letting out a pained cry, Nazyr clutched at it, letting go of the rope in the process.
Rylan’s eyes widened. Unprepared for the increased weight, he stumbled a step forward, the rope slipping back down over the dock. Then he thankfully managed to stabilise and bring it to a halt.
However, the soldiers weren’t sitting still, and more arrows came flying in. Leahna shot another glowing arrow, which smashed a hole in the corner of the building, sending out a spray of stone, but didn’t hit anyone directly.
Nazyr scrambled up to grab the rope again, streaks of red adorning the side of his face. “We gotta hurry!”
“Artoran, hold on tight!” Yuel yelled, slinging his caster on his back and grabbing the rope as well. “We’re going to run and pull you up in one go!”
“Do it!” Artoran yelled back.
Seeing Yuel face towards him with the rope over his shoulder, Rylan got with the program, turning around and rushing away from the ledge, pulling the rope with him.
Arrows whizzed past them as the rope rapidly slid over the stone, and within seconds, Artoran was at the ledge, then over it.
Leahna grabbed him by the armpit and hauled him up. One of the arrows struck Artoran’s side as he stumbled to his feet, but the angle it hit under was poor, so it got deflected by his thick Mana Shell.
Another one headed for Yuel, but Rylan stretched out his arm to block its path. There was a flash of white as the projectile struck his Mana Shell, then a stinging pain as it penetrated enough to graze his arm. His thick leather coat caught the brunt of it, and the arrow was deflected upwards, leaving only a small cut.
“Let’s go!” Rylan shouted as they took off down the docks, away from the soldiers and towards the isolated ship.
After a moment, the soldiers came out of their shelter and started cautiously giving chase. And there seemed to be a few more of them now...
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Artoran was doing his best to hobble along as fast as he could, but it wasn’t going quick enough.
“Say boo,” Yuel said, pointing his thumb back at Artoran. “How would you like a human Mana Shell?”
Quickly catching on, Nazyr crouched down and held his arms out to the back.
Artoran did not hesitate to throw himself at the man’s back, and they were off again. With Nazyr giving Artoran a piggyback ride, Leahna was freed up to return fire. Meanwhile, Yuel ran in front of them, gratefully making use of the ‘human Mana Shells’ as well.
Meanwhile, Rylan looked ahead, where the ship they were headed for was coming into view, some sixty feet away.
The warship was even bigger than he’d thought. Its three massive floaters were not a simple ‘whale ribs and kelp weave’ type of construction as was common in shipbuilding. Instead, they had solid frames, probably made of thick bamboo, clad in a protective metal plating of—judging by the aquamarine sheen—some kind of lightweight cloudmetal alloy.
The square deck on top of that rested a good dozen feet above the drift line, and looked easily capable of fitting two modest houses side-to-side.
Although said hypothetical houses would have to share their porches with an absolutely massive harpooncaster at the bow, and their backyards with an equally intimidating catapult.
Seeing the vessel’s size, for a moment, Rylan’s heart clenched, as he wondered if stealing it was the right decision. Its cloudmetal-covered floaters might be sturdy, but the combined mass had to significantly slow it down...
No time to change plans now; it won’t be any slower than the rest of the Talon’s ships, and at least we won’t easily get shot down and crash!
While he was taking in their goal, Artoran had managed to wrestle his gittern around onto Nazyr’s head somehow and started to play a restless melody, mana pouring from his fingers into the strings, then off into the air to unknown purpose.
“Run run, barrel forth,” he sang. “Cross the docks and cross the wharf, barrel on for if you stop, they’ll have us over a barrel!”
More barrel-related lyrics followed, but Rylan was distracted by the two alarmed-looking men who appeared on the ship’s deck at one of the smaller swivel-mounted harpooncasters lining its side.
The two wasted no time, one of them starting to crank the wheel that drew back the string, as the other grabbed hold of the caster and started turning it towards them.
Rylan made a split-second decision, speeding up his steps as he drew Arphin with his left hand and a regular throwing knife with his right.
Despite the tell-tale glow beneath his feet, the soldiers on the ship seemed quite surprised when he suddenly veered towards them and—rather than taking the gangplank—launched himself off the docks with a fully charged Jump.
Rylan reckoned their disbelief stemmed from his willingness to cross the twenty-foot gap over a massive drop to get to them.
At the top of his arc, several feet above the flabbergasted men and their harpooncaster, Rylan flung the steel throwing knife with only 0.3 points of mana in Knife-Throwing. It was enough for the blade to straighten out, graze the wrist of the man who’d been taking aim, and pierce straight through his sternum.
The other man scrambled back and drew his rapier with speed that seemed born of practise rather than panic.
Rylan landed on the deck with Arphin already switched to his right hand. Mana flowed through his arm, the spiritblade lighting up with the white glow of Knife-Fighting, but the soldier didn’t hesitate or waste time either. He lunged forward, striking for Rylan’s chest.
The rapier was significantly heavier, but Arphin was covered in mana, so Rylan managed to parry the blow without too much trouble, dancing back.
The sailor pressed the attack, using his superior reach to force Rylan to continually move away.
Rylan gritted his teeth. While he’d been sparring and practising quite a bit, the man was clearly a far more skilled duellist.
More importantly, he didn’t have time for this. So he stopped backing up, and instead stepped forward to slash down with Arphin in an overhead strike, foregoing defence entirely and trusting his Mana Shell to weaken the incoming blow.
The man’s thrust hit his chest with a flash of white and a rip of leather, the rapier marking Rylan’s left pectoral with a small cut before it was deflected off to the side.
The soldier’s superior skill was on full display as he still managed to flick his blade up to block Rylan’s arm.
However, doing so left his own torso wide open.
Rylan launched himself forward off his left foot and raised his right. The man tried to twist away, presenting only his side rather than his chest, but that was more than enough for Rylan. The glowing sole of his boot struck the man’s waist, and a burst of mana sent him flying into the railing.
The man struck the bamboo with an audible crack, then flipped over it and disappeared between the ship and the docks, his screams rapidly dampening as he was swallowed by the fog.
By that point, Leahna was running up the gangplank with Nazyr in tow, who was huffing and puffing with the effort of carrying a still singing Artoran.
Yuel, however, had stayed back a little to rapidly unwind the ship’s thick ropes from metal rings embedded in the docks.
Two more of the Talon’s men came out of the cabin at the back of the deck, on top of which stood the ship’s steering wheel. One of them was wearing a feathered hat and wielded a sword with a fancy bejewelled handle, the other was dressed in simpler Talon livery and brandished a crossbow.
“This vessel is the property of Duke Talon!” the man with the fancy blade barked, red-faced with anger, his pointy moustache quivering. “Trespassers will be—”
That’s as far as he got, before a glowing arrow literally took his breath away.
As what appeared to be the captain started to choke on his own blood, the crossbowman cursed and ducked back inside.
Rylan could still see his spirit, however. He didn’t even think about it. He just raised Arphin, charged up Knife-Throwing, and threw, using his latest Augmentation to curve his throw through the doorway and to the right, aiming straight for the glowing white blob.
A stifled gasp came from inside, and Rylan felt a tugging on the node within his spirit.
With a pop, Arphin reappeared in his hand with a small lump of flesh attached to the blade. “Ehm...”
[Nice throw, Boss!] the spiritgear enthused. [And don’t worry: that’s nothing too gross, just a little piece of his bloodpump! I figured that would speed things along.]
Deciding now was not the time to process that, Rylan quickly flicked it off.
Leahna rushed over to the railing, loosing an arrow at the still chasing soldiers. “Lil’ bro, are we all clear?!”
[We are! Everyone that’s not us who’s still on the ship is dead or dying!]
Rylan turned to Nazyr, who had just thrown open a hatch into the deck in between the giant ballista and catapult to reveal a massive folded-up kite with a thick coil of rope attached to a winch. “Naz, what can I do to help?”
“I got it, just protect Yuel!”
Nodding, he rushed over to the railing, putting Arphin away and instead drawing several throwing knives.
Yuel had finished untying the ship on the side they had come from, and was now running to the ropes on the far end of the ship to finish unmooring.
However, the posse of chasing soldiers had swollen in numbers and formed a wall of shields at the front, which seemed to bolster their confidence as they marched along the docks, now rapidly approaching the ship.
Cursing, Rylan started to fling knives at the men in front, filling them only with the bare minimum of mana. Most simply bounced off the shieldwall, but a lucky hit got one in the neck.
Leahna’s arrows were more suited to the task of piercing the shields, but after only three full-power shots, she had to switch to firing barely charged ones as well. Her Mana Pool was smaller than Rylan’s and she was clearly reaching its limits.
Even Rylan, despite his efforts to conserve mana, was down to about half his pool by now.
His stomach filled with dread as the soldiers drew level with the ship.
Should I jump in front of them to hold them off? If they overwhelm me—
An order was barked from their midst, and the orderly marching squad dissolved their shieldwall as they broke into a sprint, running alongside the ship towards the gangplank and Yuel beyond it.
Meanwhile, Artoran had stepped up to the railing as well. “Run run, barrel forth,” he sang. “Chase your foes across the wharf, barrel on and never stop, just watch out for those barrels!”
Rylan caught the flash of white that came off the gittern at the last powerful strum, yet he was still surprised when a stack of bamboo barrels close to the gangplank suddenly glowed up white and burst into motion, ropes snapping as wildly spinning barrels broke free and barrelled onto the docks, straight at the sprinting soldiers.
The ones in front tried to skid to a stop, but they had nowhere to go with their comrades breathing down their necks. Thus, the herd of suddenly migrating barrels bowled straight into them, sending men sprawling and even pushing a number of them over the edge.
[Ooohhh, so that’s why he kept going on about barrels!]
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