Chapter 2 - Whispers of a Storm

Author’s note - Oh, boy! Thanks a million for eyeballin’ my tall tale! I sure hope it tickled your funny bone or even made you spit out your coffee (but not on your keyboard, please)! So, whaddya think? Did it make you chuckle, or was it as awkward as a whoopee cushion at a fancy dinner? Don’t be shy, just holler at me in the comments below! Let’s chat, yeah?

The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea as my ship glided into Anchorfell’s bustling port. The towering lighthouses stood like vigilant sentinels, their beams cutting through the mist that hung over the water. It’s as if they’re welcoming us, guiding us into the heart of this maritime metropolis.

The port is alive, a cacophony of voices filling the air—sailors shouting orders, merchants haggling, dockworkers grunting under the weight of crates and barrels. Ships from all corners of the world were here, their flags a colorful tapestry fluttering in the wind. The sight is awe-inspiring, a testament to Anchorfell’s significance as a hub of commerce and diplomacy.

“Helm, bring us about,” I called out, my eyes scanning the harbor for the designated area reserved for Thalassar’s fleet. “Docking position two-seven-niner. Let’s park Morwen’s little retirement gift where the people can get a good look at her.”

Around me, the well-drilled efficiency of my crew was a sight to behold. We were a diverse lot - sons of fishermen and noblemen, seasoned veterans, and fresh-faced recruits – all bound by duty, ambition, and the promise of adventure on the open sea.

I leaned against the railing, taking it all in.

Ropes were hauled, sails furled with well-practiced ease, tow lines secured, and in no time, we were slotted between a sleek corvette and a battle-scarred ironclad that probably had its own collection of enemy cannonballs embedded in its hull. A far cry from our usual mooring, but then again, it’s not every day one waltzes into Anchorfell towing a pirate ship as a souvenir.

As soon as the gangplank was secured, the harbor sprang to life around us. Navy personnel – all crisp uniforms and expressions that could curdle milk – swarmed the vessel, herding Morwen’s less-than-thrilled crew off to the tender mercies of Anchorfell’s holding cells.

Elara, I noted with no small amount of satisfaction, was orchestrating the controlled chaos with the demeanor of a particularly irritated bureaucrat. I swear she thrived on this stuff.

I waited until the last of Morwen’s crew - a scrawny fellow who kept shooting me venomous looks from beneath a patch-covered eye - was being herded off to whatever fate awaited them.

Then, I addressed my own.

“Attention!”

The roar of the harbor – the cries of gulls, the creak of rigging, the ever-present clang of hammers from the dry-docks - faded to a dull murmur as every eye on the deck snapped to attention. Even a couple of dockworkers hauling crates nearby – turned towards me. Showmanship, as I might have mentioned once or twice ... was part of the job description.

“Today, we gave those sea slugs a taste of Thalassar steel,” I announced, making sure to inject the right amount of pride (and maybe a dash of theatrical flourish – a captain had to entertain his crew). “ You all performed ... admirably.” A pause, letting the significance of the victory - and a touch of well-deserved fatigue – settle in. “Enjoy a night of well-deserved rest, but be ready for new orders.”

“Aye, Captain!” came the rumbling response.

“Dismissed.”

As soon as the crew had dispersed, I gestured for Elara and Luke to follow me down the gangplank.

“Luke, get a shipwright to look at our new acquisition. I want to know if she’s worth salvaging or just good for parts.”

“You got it.”

“Elara, give the crew some shore leave. They’ve earned it. But tell them to stay ready; we might have new orders sooner than we think.”

“Okay...” she replied, that familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. “Though I’m pretty sure the Admiral is going to bury you this time.”

“Ah, come on now, El,” Luke said, ever the voice of reason. “You know she’s not that bad.”

“Darling,” she said, turning that withering stare on Luke, “you’ve spent far too long around Aedan if you think a pirate ship tied to our bow qualifies as a ‘minor infraction’.”

“She’s not that unreasonable. Besides, it’s a good ship; we could use the parts.”

“You only say that because...”

I interrupted, clapping him on the back. “That’s my man! See, Elara? Not everyone thinks I’m headed straight for the gallows!”

She snorted. “That’s because not everyone has had the pleasure of saving your ass as many times as I have. Seriously, Aedan, tone down the damn stunts for once, or so help me -”

“Oh, come on now, where’s your sense of adventure?” I said. “ I happen to think my ‘stunts’ as you so eloquently put it, add a certain flair to this whole thing.”

“Seriously? You think dragging home a prize ship like some two-bit pirate is going to impress the Admiral?” Elara threw her hands up in the air. “ Next you’ll be demanding we call you Captain Bloodbeard!”

“Now there’s a name that commands respect,” I mused.

“You’re impossible,” Elara muttered. Then, louder: “Seriously. Tone. It. Down.”

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “Ah, but it’s my daredevilry-that’s the precise reason you’re working for a Captain...” I emphasize the last word, my eyes darting to Luke, and then back to her., “ ... who allows fraternization among his crew.”

She rolled her eyes so hard I’m surprised they didn’t fall out of her head. “Oh don’t flatter yourself. Luke and I could’ve just sneaked around on any other fleet. We’re here because ... well, someone must keep you from making any monumentally dumb decisions.”

I considered letting that slide. Considered it for all of two seconds. “Oh really?” I said, taking a menacing step towards her. Before Elara could so much as blink, I flicked her on the forehead with my knuckles. Her surprised yelp was immensely gratifying.

“OW! I told you never to do that.” she hissed, clutching her forehead as if I’d just tried to impale her skull with my finger.

“Did you know? But you see I’m the captain – I get to order you around, not the other way around!”

And because some impulses were just too strong to resist - I did it again. Boink.

“That’s it!—” She reached for one of her pistols, which looked awfully loaded at the moment.

I raised an eyebrow, already turning to walk away. “Attempted murder of your commanding officer is subject to court-martial, imprisonment, or even—”

“That’s not even the correct protocol, you imbecile!”

I waved a dismissive hand over my shoulder. “Just following your captain’s orders would solve all these problems, you insubordinate wretch.”

“You infuriating, arrogant sea-dog!”

I couldn’t resist. I turned around and offered her an exaggerated bow, my arms sweeping wide, my grin stretching from ear to ear. “At your service, my lady.”

The click of a pistol’s hammer being pulled back rang through the air.

Elara was aiming straight for me, her eyes ablaze. But before she could pull the trigger, Luke’s arm snaked around hers, pulling the pistol off course. “Easy there, love. Let’s save the ammunition for actual enemies.”

“You spineless, insufferable buffoon!”

I just smiled, brighter than ever. “Ah, the dulcet tones of your affection. How they warm my heart.”

“You’re lucky, Aedan!” she yelled, as she struggled against Luke’s grip. “Next time, I will definitely off you!”

“Ah, but that’s what makes it so exciting, doesn’t it? The constant promise of ‘next time.’”

Shaking my head with mock disappointment, I turned and continued on my way, the sound of Elara’s colorful string of insults serving as the perfect backdrop to my departure.

Ah, the joys of command—never a dull moment.

I took a deep breath as I stepped off the docks and into the heart of Anchorfell. The air was a heady mix of tar, bread, salt, and a thousand untold tales that meant you were in a port city.

Streets stretched out like a labyrinth, each turn leading to a new adventure—or a new way to empty your pockets. Merchants hawked their wares with fervor, their stalls overflowing with exotic spices, intricate trinkets, and the kind of baubles that made you wonder, “Who actually buys this stuff?”

From spices from the Far East to textiles from the mystical lands of the South, if one did not find it in Anchorfell, it probably doesn’t exist.

I sauntered through the city, dodging the occasional pickpocket and street urchin. Founded by pirates—yes, pirates—the city had once been a haven for every scallywag and ne’er-do-well this side of the equator. That was until the Empire decided they needed a strategic outpost on this stretch of the Azure Expanse.

And these pirates, with their convenient little fortress city ... well, they became a minor inconvenience. What followed, as I’d heard it told, was a masterclass in “negotiations.” Involving a lot of rum, even more gold, and a surprising number of Imperial Navy uniforms that mysteriously went “missing” from supply ships for a few months.

By the time the dust settled, the pirates ... were still here, just wearing slightly fancier clothes and answering to fancier titles. And the Imperial Navy had itself a brand-new base.

The naval headquarters loomed larger with every step I took – a monument to Imperial might and a stark contrast to the more ... free-spirited architecture of the surrounding city. It was built like a fortress, all soaring arches and thick, gray stone, with cannons positioned at strategic intervals.

Two marines, flanked the entrance – their expressions as welcoming as a pair of stone gargoyles. I offered a casual salute - more out of habit than any real respect for military decorum. They didn’t even blink. Figures.

“Captain Aedan, reporting,” I said, my voice echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged hallway. One of them checked my name against a list - and with a grunt, they waved me through.

Inside, it was all polished marble floors and portraits of stern-looking men and women, each one looking as if they were silently judging me for not being as epic as they were.

Ah, give it time, my stoic friends, give it time.