Black Bone Tower Part 23

Previous: Black Bone Tower Part 22

They had sailed for a week to finally get to their destination. The New World was a tricky place to navigate, but they had already been sailing it for many decades, and knew its many habits, even the more deadly ones. Their ship was well equipped for the calm belt, and their navigator was more than well seasoned for the many types of storms that awaited them. The Viking Pirates, led by none other than Captain Thomas Drake himself, finally met their destination, and they were ready for anything. The Masked Muscle, their hearty ship, anchored one kilometer off of the shore, and the big, burly men rowed their life boat onto the island known as Iron Ore.

To his surprise, there were people who saw him, and while they seemed somewhat concerned, there were no pitch forks or torches. There was no mob forming, nor was there a large commotion. There merely came an older gentlemen, surrounded by three men, they seemed mild-mannered enough, and while they did not look particularly happy to see him, they were not panicking in any way, Thomas did not know how to take this sort of greeting.

Man: Greetings, I am Lan, diplomat of Iron Ore, and keeper of its people.

Thomas: Aye, and I am Captain Thomas Drake of the Viking Pirates.

Lan: I know of you, Captain Drake. Your name is seldom spoken without a mention of might and reverence. However, I must ask that you pause for a moment, and hear my words clearly.

This surprised Drake, and not a small amount. He approached the man with his own three men at his company, all of them met the eyes of the natives to that island, and they were not poorly dressed, quite the contrary, they seemed very well fed and strong, giving Drake the suggestion of some constant wealth. This seemed to enhance his suspicions.

Drake: I mean your people no harm, nor will my stay be perminant, I merely seek a cave that is off these shores, one that is marked by a rock in the shape of a fist.

Lan's facial expression changed then. Even his stance gave away of a change in his thought process.

Lan: Go back the way you came, Captain Drake. I say this not out of scorn, or fear. I say this as a service to you, you may restock your supplies and rest here, but I must ask you to leave this island afterward. You cannot know how much I mean this in the most respectful way. Do not proceed, it will not end well for any of you.

Drake had not felt such intrigue and disdain since his early days as a pirate. While he did not handle it quite as well in that age, sometime before the Great Age of the Pirates, but he did not welcome such a feeling now, as he did not then.

Drake: Stand aside, Lan of Iron Ore. We will not be diverted from our course. What we seek is what could very well help me along my journey to the other side of the New World. We have traveled for so long to find that island that would change my fate forever, and with this treasure, I am sure that it will be mine, as it always should have been.

Lan stood for a moment longer, the look in his eyes was very hard to read, but it was not the look of defiance. Lan merely sighed, and closed his eyes. he took two steps to the side, as did his subordinates.

The six main lieutenants of the Viking Pirates came ashore, along with some of their most trusted crewmembers, twenty five in all, and sixteen more that waited on the ship. The pirate crew walked across the beach of that moderately sized island, and noticed a rather large village of inhabitants, and to their surprise, there was no welcoming party of any kind. In fact any and all who walked the streets simply walked to their own homes and disappeared from sight. They locked their doors, shut their windows, and effectively turned it into that of a ghost town.

Thomas Drake walked among his crew, and all of them were quiet, simple whispering among themselves and cautious, silent comments were passed among them. That was when Gish walked up to the side of their great leader, his great build of muscle and pride enough to match even Captain Drake himself.

Gish: I am getting that feeling again, Captain.

Drake: I knew you would say that, Gish. I, too, am skeptical of what this means. For an island that holds a beast, they do not seem especially down-trodded, or repressed. No, they seem to thrive, and in no small manner.

Gish: Indeed, I do not like it. This place holds secrets, and they are secrets that give them strength, even courage.

Voice: Captain Thomas Drake!

There came a death of silence, and every single eye in that crew turned to a figure that stood atop a ridge. There stood a man with long, black hair, a katana and wakizashi at his hip, and a very serious look on his face. Drake's blood began to boil, and there came a very familiar chill crawling up his spine. Thomas Drake was use to some form of fear in someone's eye when they looked him in the eye, some form of respect for his gigantic stature and muscular, Adonis-like build, and hesitance in even speaking to him, but this man, he had not even a trace of it.

Man: I am certain that Lan, the elder, cautioned your presence here.

Before Gish could step forward to address his disrespectful behavior, but Captain Drake stopped him, and stepped forward instead.

Drake: He did.

Man: What gives you the right to do such a thing? Have you not been told of what dwells here?

Drake: I have.

Man: I ask again, what has possessed you to step foot on this sacred island? Who gave you permission to disrupt the peace of this land, and ignore its tranquility, stepping on it as if you laid claim to it? Such an act is not to be over-looked.

With each word, the Viking Pirates grew heated, and all of them glared at this fool who would dare talk to their Captain in such a way! All of them put their hands on their own weapons, their axes and scimitars ready to be drawn as well as their pistols and rifles. To their surprise, Drake simply laughed.

Drake: What is your name, swordsman? You spit fire as if it were readily exhaled, and you possess no fear of me, nor my men. I can see in your eyes that you are not afraid of me, even in the least. If you wish to meet my fist with your sword, I welcome it, in fact I am anxious for it. Is that your intent? Do you really welcome my wrath with open arms?

Voice: No [Spoken out from behind them, opposite of the swordsman.]

All eyes turned toward the other voice, turning their backs toward the man, and all of the sudden, every hand slipped away from their weapons, every eye widened and gawked, and all words and enflamed emotions dissipated, even that of Thomas Drake's, whose face turned somewhat grim, and his insides dropped in temperature, his complexion lost, and his emotion turning to stone as he looked on with such a wave of feelings that even he was at a complete loss for anything to say.

Snowbeard: I welcome whatever it is you bring to this island, whether it be wrath or war, for that is why I stay here. What say you, Thomas? What do you bring to this island?

Drake: ...Nicholas...