Kommordore Deffgit and The Gloomwyrms - part 10: The Raven Queen

The Gloomwyrms moved stealthily through the streets of Frørholm. There wasn’t a pressing need to be silent, but old habits die hard. As they walked uphill some of them chatted, in low voices.

“This place be blasted cold, for sure. But it ain’t as all that bad, which they said it was when we arrived first.” said Borgo. “When Deffgit said that Misthåvn had called in our debt and payment was to be due in full, the moment he next set-foot aboard any ship of the armada, I figured he was bringing us here to hide out a while. It not being on most of the maps and all.”

Deffgit watched his crew as they walked. He didn't tell them to shut up, so they continued.

“Aye,” said Troff as they clambered onto the roof of a tall building, “True enough. None of us expected the Blackwing Corsairs to be here already, but himself must of known the Raven Queen was coming, with likely her fleet entire.”

Borgo nodded in agreement but didn’t reply as he and Dursh were hauling on a line, hoisting Dursh‘s swivel-gun up after them.

After they got their breath back Dursh said loudly “They are a civil bunch of crews, ain’t they?” The background noise now meant the need for quiet was long past. A staccato of distant cracks and bangs of handguns, pops of pistols, and an occasional deeper thud of a heavier gun. All with an undercurrent of unintelligible but angry voices.

“The Blackwings?” said Borgo, scratching his neck thoughtfully. “Yeah, they are good sorts. Easy to get along with, given that they have the right attitude to the loot and that.”

"Aye, Mogak was telling anyone what would listen about that last week." said Jag, between sporadic hacking and stabbing at someone attempting to climb the wall below. "The Blackwings know that the loot ain’t worth hanging on to, as it'll only get stole again from you if you gets attached. The point of loot is the taking it up, from the chumps what think it has value." The others all nodded with the satisfaction of a deep truth known to them, and few others.

“Which there has certainly been a marked success in and of their strategies of late.” said Rogbat with a chuckle. "They have..." he interrupted himself with the loud thump of his swivel-gun discharging. He looked on with interest at the carnage the blast produced then continued as he reloaded, "They have been going great guns; taking what them other coves was after, or what they thought they already had."

"Mogak was saying, that this 'Great Gatherer' what the Blackwings go on about (you know, the big bird-thing they make offerings of the stuff they stole to all the time?)" said Jag, "Well, Mogak reckons it sounds a lot like Mork. Exactly the like of trick what would make Mork laugh, says he. Maybe the Great Gatherer is him with a disguise of black feathers..."

In the distance the low clouds were lit from below by flashes of weirdly coloured lightning and swirling domes of energy that expanded suddenly, consuming or transforming all in their path. Silhouetted against these arcane lights two gigantic creatures threw punches at one-another that could have levelled houses. The Gloomwyrms paused their work to watch the gargantuan figures exchanging blows.

Someone hailed them from another rooftop, dark wings spread around them reflected the multi-coloured flashes of the thaumaturgic battle.

Borgo was the first to break the crew's silence, "What's that place called again?"

"The gatehouse? Wesgard I think?" said Jag, and then he started stabbing wildly at someone trying to get onto the roof, who fell screaming back the way they came.

"Aye, that was it. We better get a bit closer." said Deffgit unexpectedly, from right behind them.

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Animosity V - The Fated Blade, turn 3 map