Carlos Wayne walked into the captain's cabin – his cabin now – on Annabelle. He grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off his sword, and sat down with an emotionless expression. It's not that he was disturbed by the bloodshed or trying to mentally detach from it; as a pirate, even as a “fair pirate”, he was well used to this sort of stuff. Rather, he was thinking about his future, like he has been for the past weeks, ever since he learnt about Warren's return. Right now, he just won a battle, but the war was far from over. And it was complicated. Way too damn complicated.

His men were celebrating outside, howling triumphantly as they were taking their new prisoners under the main deck. They were mercenaries hired by Ike Lazarus for a single purpose: to finally get rid of his pirate rivals. Carlos got a tip about them from his sea-dealer friend, and managed to guess their route, then catch them out here before they could unite with Lazarus' other forces at Newchance. It all went pretty well.

In a minute, Iesha, one-eyed Owen, and the orange cat-man (named Roy) appeared in his open door. On a second glance, there was one more person with them, a rather short fellow.

“Seven dead on our end. Thirty or so on theirs,” Owen announced. “The rest of them are surrendered and in bondage, another thirty.”

“It was a bloody blowout!” Roy cheered.

“Why is the little guy here?” the captain asked. “And why is he unbound?”

“He is Little Borg, he wants to talk to you,” said Iesha. “Guess what, I actually just so happen to know him too. Seems to be a pattern these days.”

“Is that so?”

Carlos sheathed his more or less clean sword, put it aside along with the wiping-cloth, and walked up to the short man. A half-goblin? Borg seemed rather calm and determined as he looked up at him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos Wayne. I heard a lot about you,” he said in a quiet, stoic tone.

“I see you are a sellsword to the core. Fighting my men one minute, then greeting me like a friend the next. If I'm not mistaken, you even killed at least one of our seven fallen members.”

“Had to keep up appearances with my fellow sellswords. They would be less keen to follow me in my side-switch if they thought me to be a total spineless traitor.”

“You aren't their leader, are you?”

“No. Our leader is dead now. Angry ginger man, strong guy. You finished him off yourself. Just between us, he did get a knife to the calf from behind right before you faced him.”

“He was hobbling, now that you mention it,” Carlos said. “Why did you do it?”

“I took on this mission to meet you to begin with. I've been playing my quiet part in battles and conflicts of various sizes for a long time now. More than gold, I like to follow my own judgement.”

“Judgement? What kind of judgement?”

“Which side I like more.”

“Interesting.” Carlos turned to Iesha. “You think we can trust him?”

“I do. Haven't known him for long, but he stuck with us in the chaos at Cornertown all the way through. He can probably get his mates on board for a deal with us. We could use some extra help.”

“For now, return him to the others, tie his hands too so he won't stick out. Borg, talk about your side-switch idea with those guys, see how they feel about it. We will get back to it later.”

“All right,” the half-goblin nodded, and Owen escorted him away.

“I have to say, you really can fight, Carlos,” said Iesha.

“Right, you haven't really seen him fight before, new girl,” said Roy, the cat-pirate. “He is a beast!”

“Didn't you take an arrow to the shoulder, though?” the tattooed elf wondered. “It seemed like that.”

“I'm not so easy to hurt,” said Carlos, “and I have some tricks up my sleeve. Don't concern yourself with me.”

“Secretive as always.”

“Do you two have something else to say?” the captain asked.

“Well, we just captured a ship,” Roy sat down on the round table in the middle of the room, the one with the ocean's map carved into it. “I was wondering what are your plans with it. Sell it like usual? Give it back to the sellswords if they end up working for us? Or perhaps keep it? The other day you said having a second ship might be useful in these circumstances.”

“I'll think about it.”

“If we do keep it, then it would need a captain. Even if he was under you, every ship needs a captain.”

“You think he would name you?” Iesha snorted.

“Why not?”

“I'll think about what to do with the ship. And the sellswords. Now if you don't mind,” Carlos nodded towards the open door, and the others walked out.

 

Just a few hours later, a medium sized vessel had an encounter with Carlos Wayne's crew too. This ship was made of dark-brown wood, had white and gold striped sails, and a flag at the back depicting a golden-caped figure standing over a white background: the Goldman family's crest.

“It's them! The ship with the purple sails, it has to be Annabelle!” owl-like Eric Goldman said nervously, standing on the main deck and looking through a spyglass.

“All men, prepare for battle!” Sir Kleid ordered.

“Wait!” Eric said to his knight commander. “We don't need to fight them!”

“We have talked about this, my lord. Whatever that orphan boy told you, getting tangled up with pirates isn't a good idea.”

“And I took your advice, sir, partly because we haven't got a clue where this Carlos Wayne could be anyway. But if he is here, I think it's a much better idea to talk to him. I mean... if you would stay by my side...”

Kleid was worried for his young lord, but he knew it's not his place to question him, even if he saw him as a little naive and inexperienced. The pirates were coming either way, so he just had to make sure that all his fellow knights are vigilant and ready in case a diplomatic solution fails. “As you wish,” he said.

As they soon noticed, the purple-sailed Annabelle wasn't alone, there was a smaller, second ship with it, suggesting they would really be outnumbered. The knight commander told Eric not to show weakness, but to be respectful, and Eric nodded. He was pale, quiet and shaking lightly, and Kleid wondered if he will even be able to mutter a word. He put his hand on his shoulder encouragingly. “We are counting on you.”

Fortunately, the negotiation went well. As soon as the pirates' ships got in hearing distance, Eric stood by the railings on his ship with a fully armored knight on both sides, their shields ready for incoming arrows. With all his courage, the lord introduced himself and expressed not wanting to fight, adding that he was in fact looking for Carlos Wayne. The pirate captain faced him from his ship, and they had a short conversation through yelling, where Eric revealed that he talked with a guy named Porco. The pirates in fact knew who Porco was, and it seemed like Carlos wants to hear more.

During the exchange, the other pirate ship went around the Goldman vessel, and dropped anchor on its other side. The Cesanitians were now surrounded. But as a gesture of trust, after planks were set up between Annabelle and the Goldman ship, Carlos walked over alone. They talked on the main deck of the Cesanitian vessel, and the pirates were now all silent, trying to hear the words spoken.

Eric told his own story briefly, how he was in search of his uncle, and how he learnt from Porco that it was Warren Crown who pretended to be Victor Goldman. Carlos confirmed that truth. And then, in a state of simultaneously feeling cornered and encouraged, Eric proclaimed that he wants to help Carlos in his quest of defeating the despicable Warren Crown. Carlos took a moment to survey through all the knights standing on the deck, then he took a close look at Eric, and finally smiled, extending a hand.

The three ships remained anchored for a few more hours, while a newfound alliance between three separate entities was celebrated in a feast aboard Annabelle. It was quite the unlikely banquet with pirates, knights and freshly defeated then rehired sellswords all sitting amongst each other, many still giving uneasy stares to the others. But somehow, the mood loosened up throughout the night, with plenty of great food and alcohol being served on the tables.

Carlos sat next to Eric, with Sir Kleid on the young lord's other side, and they talked more. Despite not being a keen drinker, even Eric had a small glass of rum, and as he felt the alcohol get to his head, he got into a quite enthusiastic and talkative state. He learned from Carlos how he defeated Warren four years ago, and then he told him quite a bit about himself in exchange. At one point, he mentioned that weird ghost-town with that crazy goblin, asking Carlos if he knows about it, who said even the pirate town only just discovered it a few years ago despite it being as close to it as it is. It was just out there without anyone having a clue about its existence.

“Not much point wandering around those barren lands. All one could find would be dry grass and perhaps some strange recluses. If not for Lazarus moving in nearby, we might still not know the town is there,” Carlos explained.

“Well, it is gone now,” said Eric.

“Is it?” the pirate captain raised an eyebrow. Of course he just missed Chio and the others at Murky bay, so he never learnt what happened.

“Someone burnt it down for some reason, and they say the mad goblin who was there is gone too. Ike Lazarus just discovered the rubble of it before we set sail from New Chance. But what's strange is that there is a single brick building left. And Lazarus' men couldn't even open its door. It's like the house is indestructible.”

Carlos jerked his head up with an expression of surprise, which he quickly concealed. Eric did not really notice, but Sir Kleid did, and so did Iesha who sat on the other side of Carlos. Something about what he just heard stuck out to the captain.

As the feast was over, Carlos invited Eric and Kleid into his cabin, where they came up with a plan. Then the Cesanitians walked back onto their ship, and parted ways with the pirates, continuing their voyage to the North beneath the orange sunset-sky.

Carlos sent someone to get Iesha, and as he waited for her, he walked to one of the cabinets. There was a square mirror on top, one of the two magic mirrors in his possession now. He used this one to communicate with his dealer-friend, the man who he tasked to bring back Annabelle's passengers to Midridge, and who informed him of these sellswords going to Newchance. Through this mirror, he could see the captain's cabin on the dealer's ship, currently empty. But it was his other mirror that interested him now. He pulled out a shelf where it was lying face down, round and with a silver frame. It used to belong to Captain Kraus, given to him by Lazarus. Carlos picked it up and glanced into it carefully: darkness. Ike Lazarus must have hid its pair somewhere, afraid that the pirate captain might spy on him through it, which was of course mutual. But Carlos was sure that the man's curiosity still compelled him to look through it from time to time. Beneath his grandiose attitude and wanna-be cleverness, Lazarus was a rather compulsive person, and Carlos knew that. And he had something on mind now. Not yet though.

He just closed that shelf as the elf woman walked in.

“Take a seat!” Carlos turned to her, pulling out a heavy chair for her. They sat face to face across the sizeable round table.

“Did you finally come up with something?” Iesha asked.

“Yes.”

“And it includes this Goldman guy?”

Carlos nodded. “They will help.”

“Don't you think they will be gone, being glad they could shake us off by just sharing a free meal with us? I honestly have an easier time trusting Little Borg, you know.”

“I do think Eric will keep his word. It's fortunate that our friend, Porco, talked to him, seems like he already set him off on a road of heroism. But even if it's just a chance that Eric will help, it would be foolish not to leave room for that.”

“So what's the plan?”

“He will go back to his home to gather a larger force, either with his father's approval or despite his disapproval. He said he will try to find a way, and that at the very least there is a mage he knows who would surely come with him. After that, he will sail back south, to Scalehide.”

“The reptilians' island?”

“I'm in good terms with them, and I will be sure to notify them in advance. Most of their tribe only moves there in the winter, we won't bother them now. It should take Eric about a month to get there.”

“And then?”

“I intend to lure Ike Lazarus there.”

“How?”

“I will need your help with that. Me and my crew will get on the sellswords' ship, and I want you to take the remaining mercenaries to Newchance aboard Annabelle. Say that you are one of them, and that you managed to take the ship back.”

“Oh. That's... an idea. But how about you?”

“You will tell Lazarus that I escaped on the mercenary ship, you don't know where. I'm sure he will be delighted, and that he will get kind of cocky. And then when the time is ready, I will 'accidentally' reveal to him where I'm running with my tail between my legs. To Scalehide. I think I can sell that act to him using that mirror of his. Feeling like he has the upper hand, I'm sure he will chase after me.”

“That's quite the convoluted plan, and it hinges on some assumptions. We can't guarantee Lazarus will act the way you hope.”

“It's a gamble, but it could just work. I think we have to try.”

“Is it really even necessary? I think we are in a pretty good spot in our war with him anyway.”

“We are. But it's not just about him, it's also about Warren.”

“How?”

“That's the second gamble. Warren knows that I'm occupied with Lazarus, of course he does. And he knows that Lazarus will stubbornly fight on for a while. Even if I'm slowly wearing him down, sabotaging and cutting off his reinforcement, the final clash between us is yet to come. Warren on the other hand has nothing else to occupy him, he can just prepare and keep watch. He wants to take me out just as much as I want him. So I think he will strike when I'm at the height of my war with Lazarus. If he can attack me when I'm already exhausted, he probably would. But if I can surprise him then, let's say with a Cesanitian force hiding in the complex caves of Scalehide, where this whole final clash will take place...”

“I see.”

“Additionally, we don't have that much to lose. If Lazarus does not take the bait and does not follow me, well, he will still have a bunch of enemies amongst his ranks unbeknownst to him. If the sellswords are to be trusted, that is. But you trust Borg at the very least, and I offered them twice the money Lazarus would be giving them.”

“Right.”

“And if Warren does not come, then I will face him another time, I suppose. All I know is that I now see a chance for a setup that could favor us.”

“I think it makes sense, now that you explained it all.”

“I'm glad we are on the same page. I need someone I can trust to lead the sellswords, to make sure they play their part, and I believe you are most suited for the task. So, will you do it?”

Iesha stared at the table-map kind of blankly for a moment, half-smiling. “Sure. Why the heck not.”

“Before we part ways though, I want to meet with my dealer-friend and get back the pair of that mirror,” Carlos pointed at the square one on the cabinet. “I will give it to you so that we can keep in touch.”

“All right, then.” The elf stood up. “Where is your friend now?”

“Sailing back south from Midridge.”

As Iesha was about to leave, she stopped by the entrance, resting her hand on the doorknob.

“Say, why did you insist Arabella and Chio not to help, if you are even taking help from this Cesanitian boy?” she asked. “You are quite fond of those girls, aren't you?”

“I never hid that I am. They are free spirits who shall thrive on their own. I would not drag the once in a thousand year harmony of a succubus and a fallen angel into Warren's darkness.”

“But isn't Warren kind of... the opposite of you?”

Carlos looked up at Iesha and nodded slowly.

“In that case,” the elf said, “Warren Crown may not only be occupied with us, after all. Did you know that he talked to Arabella as they travelled together? He did, and he expressed interest in her. And now he knows what Chio is too. Once in a thousand year harmony, you said?”

The pirate captain gulped.

 

Cassian, the long-haired, black cat-man was stumbling alone on the desolate shores of the Scorched Lands. Hungry, exhausted, and somewhat delirious, he was mumbling to himself, cursing the gods, the succubus who touched him, Goliath who banned him from Murky Bay, and his remaining crew mates who threw him out of their ship, blaming him for the mess up. What was he supposed to do now? Go to Ike Lazarus' place and beg him to take him in? Good riddance!

“Why?!” he screamed, staring at the unreachable horizon. If he at least had a boat, he could try to row back to the world, to Midridge maybe... and probably die trying. “Why was I so stupid...”

He collapsed and lay on his back, recalling all the people he cursed: the succubus, the damn dwarf, the cat-bitches who he once considered friends, the succubus... the succubus...

He started laughing, then coughed, then laughed some more. At least one part of him still had some energy left. It was standing up now, throbbing. She was a redhead, a fox-like redhead with green eyes. He remembered her well. And he put his right hand to work. He still had that much in him.

He did not remember falling asleep, but he woke up to someone crouching besides him and slapping his face.

“Cut it out!” he whimpered, barely opening his eyes.

“You're a mess,” came a cold, male voice.

“I don't care...”

But suddenly, there was a smell. Nice smell of fresh food. Cassian's eyes popped open – the stranger was dangling a raw fish over his face. Cassian sat up and reached for it, but the man suddenly dashed back. He was standing over him now. Tall, pale man, thin, balding. He wore simple light-grey clothes.

“What the fuck...” the cat-man mumbled and rubbed his eyes. “You wanna give that to me or not?”

“What happened to you?”

“I got fucked over, that's what happened.”

“Tell me about it and I'll give you the fish.”

“Man... it's a long story and my throat is sore. Gimme!” Cassian reached forward with the last of his strength, but the pale man was surprisingly quick, he once again jumped back. The cat-man fell to his knees and laughed, which turned into coughing again.

“You are under a woman's spell, aren't you?” asked the pale man.

“Succubus...”

“Redhead?”

“Redhead.”

The fish landed right in front of Cassian, on the ground. He would have preferred if it didn't get dirty, but the thought was quick to pass; he was just way too hungry. He ate the whole fish in a few bites, sighed, and looked up at the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Warren Crown.”

“Really? You?”

Cassian's doubt only lasted for a moment – upon taking a closer look, his smile disappeared from his face. The stranger had a cold, creepy aura around him, and he was evidently much more agile and strong than what he looked like. And his dark eyes...

“You expected to die, cat-man. You were fucked over. But I can give you a chance. Don't you want to fuck her back, she who ruined your life?”

“Well... it was multiple people, really, but... fuck her...”

“An eastern girl too, right?”

Cassian nodded.

Warren helped him get up. Only now did the cat-man notice the ship anchored near the shore. Old, grey vessel with something red on each of its black sails. He couldn't make them out from this angle, but undoubtedly those were the famous pierced hearts of Heartbreaker.

Before they got on board, the cat-man was offered a flask of water, and they talked some more. Cassian gave a detailed description of his recent experience in Murky Bay, starting with the fairy's drunken retelling of her discoveries, and admitting his silly plan of stealing that diary she found in hopes of great profit. He mentioned that supposedly indestructible brick building too, but he was still a little too out of it to notice how interesting Warren found that.