Writer's Creed Challenge

The original Prompt may be found here on Tumblr. My response is a short mini fanfiction of the Barer Chronicals by M. Brookes

the founding pirates

Attius stumbled over the rolling wooden planks. He felt his stomach rising up, it burned a path from his belly button, through his lungs, and rested in his nose after he swallowed. He scratched his nails into the weathered wood kneeling while the world tipped and turned.

“Fucking idiot. Get up boy.” The shrunken head grouched from his belt. “Don’t want to be here either but you don’t see me trying to kill myself over it.”

“Oh fuc-” Attius started to smart back while pushing himself to his feet but the ship lurched again and his stomach choked off his words. He lunged towards the railing to let his stomach forcefully expel itself from his body.

“You’re really having a hard time aren’t you?” Lucanis hadn’t bothered hiding his smirk as he sauntered across the deck, smooth as the silk they were carrying.

“I’ll puke in your hat.” Attius wheezed from his slouched position before snarling at the head at his waist. “And you can shut the fuck up, Master.”

Lucanis didn’t question the snarl to the head. He would have liked to say it was the craziest thing he had seen. “Whoever heard of a seasick pirate?”

“I’m a necromancer you prick.”

“A sick son of a bitch.” Lucanis agreed, watching Attius heave nothing out. “So…how’d you like to get off the boat early?”

Attius turned a half glare to the too-innocent-not-making-eye-contact elf. His grip on the rail tightened to white knuckles, while he forced his body to wait and hear what was being said before spewing out anything else. “Why?”

“Nothing big, just a small island we’ll be passing that I’m sure you’ll enjoy more than another week at sea.” Lucanis tried to wave off. He cringed slightly. “And I may be meeting someone that has an issue with before mentioned necromancy.”

Attius lifted his chin stubbornly lifted his head for a moment before collapsing against the rail again. “I fucking hate you.”

“We can christen the beach.” Lucanis nudged the human with his elbow and an overconfident smirk. He cringed slightly when it only severed to send more empty stomach over the edge.

“How many people populate it who also ‘take issue’ with necromancy?” Attius questioned not relishing the idea of having to watch his back every second. It was the only reason he had followed the elf.

“And he’s as sex-craved as you.” The head mocked. “With equal commitment issues.”

=-=

Attius stood on the deserted beach and glared at the overgrown forest. “When you said no people here had a problem with necromancy I assumed there were people.”

“There are!” Lucanis defended, he waved his hand towards a location, that with some squinting and quite a bit of imagination one could say, was once a building.

“…I’m gonna spend the next week puking on the boat.” Attius declared turning to get back on the ship he was convinced would be the cause of his death. He would deny the sound he made when Lucanis grabbed the hood of his cloak to stop him.

“At least help me gather some spices that grow here.” Lucanis grinned at Attius’s glare. Attius turned to follow the other, if only for the promise in his eyes of what else they would do in his eyes.

=-=

Attius yelled at the ship disappearing in the horizon. He cursed and sent a fireball after it only to watch the magic become absorbed in the ship's shield. One he had helped build.

“Should have known better than to trust a rogue, Boy.” The laughing head mocked.

“No one fucking asked you, Master!” Attius screamed into the silence. Something squawked hidden among the trees. Attius scooped the scythe from where the 'stupid, fucking, backstabbing, arrogant, son of a bitch, too good in bed, someone should light on fire' elf had left it before sailing away.

“Into a fucking sunset, too.” Attius told the vegetation as he collected his discorded clothes. He frowned when a strange shape caught his eye. Kneeling down Attius stretched out his scythe to push the greenery away. Slowly a malicious smile stretched his face.

=-=

Lucanis frowned when his ship approached the island he had left Attius on three weeks prior. There was a large section of chard jungle cutting across the visible docking point. The sand was no longer a shiny yellow-tinted white, but a deep burnt brown. He couldn’t see any signs of life.

“Did someone find the bastard?” Lucanis wondered out loud. The ship turned to make port in a cove, his crew eager to avoid being on open water when the storm brewing on the horizon hit.

“Well fuck me.” Lucanis breathed, someone had built what appeared to be storehouses along the cliffs of the cove, using naturally occurring caves and crevices. Moving along the ridge Lucanis caught sight of shapes moving in lurching movements that could only be caused by the undead. He frowned when, anchoring the ship, there appeared to be goblins moving among the shadows.

Lucanis would not deny his shock, when moments after touching the shore, he was greeted by spears and angry snarling goblins. “Um…human? I lost one here. Have you seen one?”

“You left me.” Attius deadpanned walking towards them with his lips pressed together tightly. The sharp jab of a spear forced Lucanis to take a step backwards

“What happened to the beach? Were you that mad, you tried to burn the memories?” Lucanis grinned.

Attius blushed. “There was…a purple vine…that turned out to be a snake…”

Lucanis laughed and could not stop even as the goblins became increasingly more agitated.

Attius muttered something, Lucanis didn’t catch and swung his scythe. The goblins glared but moved away. They bared their fangs at the elf before disappearing in the shadow.

“So I’m like their king now.” Attius shrugged.

“Because you burned down their home?”

“No.” He pointed his scythe up towards the cliff edge where the undead were dragging unknown objects. “Turns out they killed the settlers. They don’t even know common or any of the goblin languages I’ve heard.”

“How’d you communicate?” Lucanis questioned while Attius began leading him away.

Attius turned a definition-of-dead-pan look towards him. “Translation spell.”

=-=

Attius folded his hands in front of his mouth with his elbows resting on the table in front of him. The crude rough shape, clearly made by the undead. Lucanis leaned back in his crude chair with his feet on the table.

“I have control over the island.” Attius stated with a smirk. “Including the ‘bargaining chip’ spices. And you left me.”

Lucanis was silent for a moment trying to think his way out of this tight spot. “Well I do need a home port.”

Attius nearly fell out of his chair while Lucanis grinned with too many teeth. “You left me now you want to take my village of obedient undead and goblins?”

“Well you don’t do well on the boat. And the island is off the charts which will help with some of my…customers.”

“You’re fucking nuts.”

“You talk to a shrunken head tied to your belt.”

“He talks to me first!” Attius defended before glaring at the mentioned head. “I said shut up!”

Lucanis’s grin widened. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You’re going to get us both killed.” Attius realized.

“Should have thought of that before buying me that first glass of wine.” Lucanis tipped his feathered hat.

"You were doing unmentionable things to me with your eyes!"

"And I've delivered every time." Lucanis grinned more leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table.