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Chapter Text

None of it had really sunk in until Hamid stood before the ship.  It was far from the largest vessel in the harbor, but there was a beauty to it that could not be denied.  A great dog served as the figurehead and the name, Hope’s Call , was blazoned across the side. 

Hamid didn’t know anything about ships or sailing.  He was only here as a favor to the meritocracy and to try and make something of himself in the eyes of his family. 

Oscar Wilde, the local contact for the meritocrats between the affairs on the ocean and within England proper, had introduced Hamid to the captain with which he would be serving and explained all of it. Captain Smith was a privateer in service to the meritocracy, but the powers-that-be were concerned that consultants such as himself were not cost effective or trustworthy, so they were sending out agents to sail alongside them and report back on the value of their exploits.  Few were eager to volunteer for the position, however. 

Hamid was offered the job by his sister, Saira, and he jumped at the chance.  He would prove himself and he would do something that helped the meritocracy, even in a small way.  He would make a difference. 

Or, at least, that’s what he’d told himself as he sat nervously in Wilde’s office as the dwarf captain complained about the situation and only acquiesced when Wilde mandated that this was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.  And now, standing before the ship, staring up at the rigging and listening to the din of the harbor, Hamid kept repeating those words over in his head.  He would make a difference . 

“Oi, watch it!” 

Hamid stepped to the side and watched as an orc pushed a series of crates down the docks and toward Hope’s Call with a goblin sat on the top of the stack, who in turn yelled for everyone to get out of the way.  The pair stopped with a screeching halt at the gangplank and Hamid watched, mesmerized, as they fluidly hauled the cargo aboard. 

“You must be the meritocratic person that’s going to be travelling with us,” the orc said, passing crates with one hand while smiling down at Hamid. 

“Uh… yes, that’s me.  Hamid Saleh Haroun al Tahan.”

“That’s quite the mouthful.”

“Just Hamid is fine, of course.”

“I’m Azu,” she replied with a smile, and, for a moment, Hamid thought that maybe this whole affair wouldn’t be quite so dreadful after all. 

Until the goblin started shouting again.

“Alright, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, let’s get moving, people!  We’re going to miss the tide!”

“That’s Grizzop,” Azu said, gesturing to him.  “He shouts a lot and you don’t want to get on his bad side, but he’s a good one, don’t worry.”

“Right…”

“You’ll be fine.  I’m sure it’ll be a lot at first, but you’ll fit in soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

Before either Azu or Hamid could say anything more, a voice Hamid recognized cried out behind them. 

“What is all this?  Whose stuff is this?” 

Hamid turned around slowly, and Captain Smith immediately sighed. 

“Right, I’d almost forgotten.  How many bags did you plan on bringing?” 

Hamid stepped over to his luggage and the captain, while Azu returned to her duties of hauling their supplies aboard. 

“I didn’t think I was bringing that much,” Hamid admitted, wringing his hands.  “Just some changes of clothes, supplies to make my reports, and some mementos of home.”

Smith looked back and forth between the monogrammed bags and the meritocratic employee that had been foisted on them, then shrugged.  “If you can find a place to fit it all on board, go nuts.  If Grizzop says there’s no room, then you’ll have to do without some of it.”

With that, Captain Smith grabbed a few sacks of supplies and boarded the ship, a metal pegleg clanking up the ramp as he went. 

“Oh dear,” Hamid muttered to himself as he glanced at his bags, before grabbing as many as he could and carrying them aboard. 

On deck, Hamid’s surroundings were a flurry of movement, crew darting every which way and shouting as ropes and bags and all manner of items were thrown between them with dizzying precision.  For a moment, Hamid was enthralled, but then stepped over to Azu, the only friendly face he knew. 

“Where should I put my things?”

“Down the steps, you’ll find where everybody has their bunks set up.  Just find one in your size that isn’t taken, pack your stuff into it, and you’re good to go.”

“Oh.  Right.  Of course.” 

Hamid daintily did as he was told, but the smell of the ship and the sight of hammocks crammed so tightly together almost made him seasick before they even got out on the open ocean.  He made two more trips to gather up his belongings, barely managing to fit them up against a wall between the hammock he decided would be his, though he was slightly afraid to touch it for fear of what diseases it might hold. 

“All hands on deck!  Prepare to set sail!” 

He had barely wrapped his head around being aboard a vessel like this when the next stage of the journey was about to begin.  Hamid followed the other dozen or so crew members as they flocked to the upper deck but, while they busied themselves with ropes and pullies and sails and levers, Hamid stood stock still and watched the events with wide eyes. 

It was not the first time he had been at sea, but never on a ship like this.  The vessels on which he had sailed were finer and grander, and often used elementals for power instead of the wind.  As a first class passenger, the affairs of the crew were kept private from him, and he never had the chance to truly appreciate all the work and teamwork required to keep things moving. 

Somehow, as he stood in the center of the deck, mesmerized, no one ran into Hamid and allowed him to watch the goings on in peace. 

However, when the ship juddered and the shoreline started to get smaller in his vision, the situation truly and completely hit Hamid; he was going to be away from both of his homes, London and Cairo, for an indeterminate amount of time, surrounded by people he did not know on a craft he knew nothing about.  Fear started to climb up his spine, but he clenched his fists tight and set his jaw. 

He would make a difference.

Chapter Text

As the crew of Hope’s Call set off to sea, Hamid had little to do.  He stood to the side and watched as the flurry of activity began to die down, the waves and wind more useful in aiding the vessel’s movement than ropes and pulleys.  Some members of the crew headed back below decks and others stayed topside to socialize with their friends or start up a game of cards. 

“Hey, meritocratic man!  Hamid, right?”

Hamid turned to see a trio of people sat around a pile of cards and Azu calling to him.  He stepped over to them.

“Why don’t you join us?”  Azu slid to the side so that there was space for him to sit beside her on the deck.

“Uh… sure.” 

“Everybody, this is Hamid.”

“Hello.”

“And this is Grizzop, and Sasha.”  She gestured first to the goblin Hamid had seen before, all teeth and ears, eyes blood red against his black skin.  Hamid hadn’t seen Sasha around yet, but she wore all black and had scars up her face that added to the severity of a glinting dagger inside her coat. 

“Watcha,” Grizzop said, and Sasha nodded before immediately looking away again.

“It’s nice to meet both of you.”

“So, you’re the one that’s supposed to be telling the dragons whether or not we get to stay on the payroll, huh?”  Grizzop asked as Azu dealt Hamid a hand. 

“Essentially, I suppose?  If I may, how exactly does a pirate vessel turn into privateers for the meritocracy?”

“It’s not all that complicated, really.  We were pirates, we got caught, Zolf would’ve been exiled and we all would’ve been thrown in jail, so we signed over.”

“Though we are basically doing the same as we were before,” Azu elaborated.  “We made a lot of trips to America.  Some ports over there need supplies that they can’t get otherwise.  And there’s a lot of bad people on the seas.  If we can make it a bit safer for everyone to travel, there’s no loss there.”

“And we take their money,” Sasha commented. 

“You weren’t plundering innocent ships, then?”  Hamid questioned, and Grizzop chuckled. 

“No, no, no.  I mean, maybe we’d occasionally hit someone on accident, but it’s not like we were some evil marauders.  I know I joined up because it’s a gig that might actually make a difference and help people who need it.  Plus, I’d rather be above the water, in a position where I can decide how it affects me, not the other way around.”

“I understand that,” Hamid replied sincerely. 

“I don’t think any of us would be here if we were off attacking innocents,” Azu added. 

“Speak for yourself.  I go where the gold is,” Sasha muttered. 

Azu rolled her eyes.  “How could I forget.  So heartless, so selfish.”

The way Sasha and Azu smiled at each other over their cards made it very clear that Sasha did indeed have a soft side, even if she clouded it with secrecy. 

“You gonna make a bet?”  Grizzop asked Hamid after depositing an arrow in the center of the pile.  Sasha had bet a dagger (not the one Hamid had previously seen on her belt), and Azu bet a small vial of perfume in a glass container the shape of a heart. 

Hamid rummaged in his pocket and threw a couple of coins in the middle, but all three of his companions shook their heads.

“We don’t bet money,” Grizzop explained.  “We’re well enough paid, we don’t gamble it off.  We only bet things that don’t really matter.  Things that we’ll give back if we need to without there being any debt owed.  Like, I’ve got plenty of arrows, I’m not going to miss them if I’m down a few, but if I do need them, Sasha will give them back.  Oh, also, Sasha cheats.”

“I like to think I just play by other rules.”

Hamid accepted his coins back from Grizzop, then pondered.  “I don’t think I have any little trinkets like that on me, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll spot you some arrows.”

“Thank you.”  Hamid placed his new bet and set an arrow in the center of the pile. 

Naturally, Sasha won the first round, and the second, and the third, and so on.  After several rounds, Hamid’s three companions were called off to various duties, leaving him with a nod and a smile as they left. 

Sasha started to leave without a word, but then stopped.  “You’re alright.  I think.  Never can tell with the posh folk, but… you seem okay.”

“Thank you?”

“But-” She wheeled around on him “-if you climb up to the crow’s nest when I’m not expecting you, you will get stabbed.  That goes for everyone, you’re not special just because you’re rich.”

“I wasn’t really planning on climbing up there,” Hamid remarked, glancing up at the crow’s nest, rocking side to side with the movement of the waves.  “But I appreciate the warning.”

“Good.” 

With that, Sasha climbed up the rigging without the slightest difficulty, gliding upwards along ropes like ball bearings in a chamber where gravity had been reversed. 

Hamid fiddled with the single arrow he still possessed after losing so many bets, then placed it carefully in a pocket of his jacket where it would be less likely to accidentally stab anyone.  The crew had been more than kind enough so far, and he was relieved to not be spending time with brutal marauders that only worked with the meritocracy through some kind of loophole.  Truthfully, he hadn’t known much about them before agreeing to the position on the ship.  They could have been violent murderers, and he wouldn’t have known. 

They were doing good work, it seemed, whether under a meritocratic banner or their own.  All the same, Hamid could not begin to understand the motivations of Hope’s Call ’s captain, who still stood at the hull, gruff and stern, glaring at the sea as if he could flatten the waves with a look. 

In the one full conversation Hamid had with him, he hadn’t expressed a single mote of compassion or kindness, only brusqueness and apathy.  But yet, he commanded a ship that always served the greater good and those who needed help but could not receive it in any other way. 

It didn’t add up.  All the same, the captain’s exterior personality, at the very least, kept Hamid from asking too many questions.  He was completely at Captain Smith’s mercy aboard the open seas and, while he didn’t necessarily expect to be dumped overboard at the slightest provocation, he didn’t want to tempt it. 

Instead, Hamid stepped down the stairs and tried to make his hammock into a more suitable resting place.

Chapter Text

Despite his best efforts, there was no good way to make the hammock more comfortable.  Piling jackets onto it to try and make the surface softer did little, and the pillow Hamid made out of a wadded-up shirt did even less.  Combined with the movement of the waves and the way the hammock swung with the rocking motion, Hamid didn’t have a chance of getting any sleep.  Perhaps he would get used to it with time? 

Truthfully, though, Hamid detested the thought of spending even one more minute in that hammock, surrounded by sailors who thought nothing of their squalid living conditions, swinging side to side by uncaring waves that refused to allow him sleep. 

With a yawn, Hamid extracted himself from the hammock and thudded to the floor with little grace.  Crawling up into the hammock had been an even more grueling task, given that they were all hung at a similar height that was not conducive to halfling stature.  He pulled on a jacket over his pajamas and climbed the stairs to the top deck.  Maybe some fresh air would do him some good.  Or at least it would allow him to stretch out his shoulders and back after being cramped in a cocoon. 

A couple of sailors still tended to the functioning of the ship, on hand in case something went wrong, but their movement was primarily dictated by the current at this point.  One tended the helm, but they looked half asleep at their post. 

Hamid found himself staring up at the stars, drinking in their brightness as they left civilization and its light pollution behind.  There were just so many of them; the vastness of space seemed less dark when so many specks of light dotted the blanket of the sky. 

But as a wave rocked the ship haphazardly, Hamid stumbled, lost in his thoughts and staring upwards.  He almost fell to the floor, only to be caught at the last moment. 

“Careful there,” a familiar, gruff voice said as they righted him.

“Oh, thank you, Captain,” Hamid replied, dusting himself off. 

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”  Captain Smith looked up at the sky, and Hamid followed suit.  “I remember the first time I set out to sea and saw all of the stars this bright.”

“It’s incredible.  This isn’t the first time I’ve seen the stars like this, but they’re still wonderful.”

“They are.”  Smith nodded.  “But maybe try to hang onto something if you’re going to get lost looking up at them.  Can’t have you falling all over the place, now can we?”

“Good call.”

Captain Smith gestured for Hamid to follow him, and they stepped up to the rail where they could look up at the sky and hang on tight in case the waves knocked them asunder again.  For a while, they stood in silence, before Hamid had a thought.

“Aren’t there captain’s quarters?”  He asked.  “I thought I saw you belowdecks with everyone else.”

“Aye, there are.  I gave them up, though.  I don’t need that big a space for myself, and it’s much more useful to our alchemist.”

“Alchemist?”

Captain Smith explained, “Cel Sidebottom.  They’re an alchemist we have on board.  They do a lot of experiments and tinkering, so giving them a confined area to do their work was a safer bet than letting them test things out elsewhere.”

“I didn’t realize you had an alchemist here.”

“They’ve made a lot of upgrades to the ship, to the rigging and the cannons; I’m pretty sure we would have been sunk a long time ago without them.”  After a pause, he continued, giving a sideways glance at Hamid, “If the hammock isn’t to your liking, you’re welcome to ask if you can stay in the lab with them.  Cel made a bunk in there, since they work at strange hours.  You may end up as part of an experiment, though, fair warning.”

“Oh, that sounds… maybe better?”  Hamid said, and Smith laughed, a ringing sound that didn’t see enough use.  “But I may make that request of them.”

“You get used to the hammocks after a while, but…”  He shrugged. 

“I appreciate it.  You knew I couldn’t sleep?”

“It was a safe assumption.”

“Well… thank you,” Hamid replied. 

After a few more moments of watching the stars and the sea, Smith pushed away from the rail.  “I need to see to a few things.  Good evening.”

“Goodnight, Captain Smith.”

He stopped in place.  “Listen, just call me Zolf, alright?  We don’t stand on formality here, least of all me.”

“Oh… of course.  Well, goodnight, Zolf.  Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be here.  I know it wasn’t something you wanted.”

Zolf grumbled.  “No, I wasn’t keen on having some meritocratic, posh type come here and tell me how to run my ship.  But you haven’t been a problem so far, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’ll do my best!”  Hamid smiled.

“Good to hear.”  Zolf nodded, and made his way up toward the helm, relieving the sleeping sailor from their post. 

Meanwhile, Hamid continued to grip the rail and stare up at the stars. 

Chapter Text

After a while, the cold air and salty mist got to Hamid, and he retreated back belowdecks to his hammock, where he fidgeted restlessly.  His body eventually fell asleep, if only for a few scattered moments here and there, before the morning sun began to peek through the small windows and the clatter of movement had him getting ready for another day. 

With the rocking of the ship and the confined quarters, Hamid was grateful for prestidigitation; changing clothes was one thing, but how was he supposed to do his eyeliner in such a situation? 

Hope’s Call was yet to interact with any other ships or undertake any of their current missions, so Hamid still had little to do.  All the same, he had a personal task on his mind. 

He made his way to the captain’s quarters – or, alchemist’s quarters? – and knocked on the door.  After several moments, he knocked again.  When he went for a third round, the door flew open and revealed a haphazard looking individual with elven features, though with one severed ear and covered in soot.

“Hello, there,” Hamid said as politely as he could muster while some kind of smoke emanated from inside the quarters.  “My name is Ha-”

“Hi there, little buddy!  You must be the new meritocracy type person we have on board.”

“That’s me.” 

“Call me Cel, it’s good to meet you.  Can I shake your hand?”

“Of course.”  Hamid held out his hand and Cel shook it readily.

“Always good to check beforehand, consent is very important even in smaller things like this.  Anyway!”  They exclaimed.  “Come on in!”

Hamid obliged.  His reluctance at entering a place that had clearly just seen an explosion was assuaged by Cel’s exuberance and politeness. 

Stepping inside, however, he almost forgot why he was there at all.  The space was filled with mechanical contraptions and alchemical supplies, few of which Hamid recognized.  Along one wall was a series of long glass tubes filled with glimmering liquids, and across the room sat a machine with cogs and wheels that kept it spinning around and around and around. 

And in the center of the room sat a table coated in the same soot that covered its alchemist, with shattered glass scattered around. 

“I’m sorry to have interrupted you,” Hamid said, looking at the wreckage.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, this is nothing.”

“It looks like there was an explosion.”

“I mean, yeah, there was an explosion,” Cel clarified, “but it was just a small one.  I didn’t even burn my eyebrows off this time!  And that, kids, is why you always wear goggles when you’re working with corrosive material.”

“Right…”

Cel grabbed a broom and brushed the broken bits of glass off to the side, then wiped down the table, retrieved another set of alchemical glassware, and set it atop the surface like nothing had happened.  Hamid had a feeling this sort of thing happened a lot.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get out to meet you sooner,” Cel said.  “Make proper introductions and all that.  My name is Celilquilithon Sidebottom, they/them pronouns, please, or I’ll shoot you off the ship.”  They smiled sweetly despite the threat.

“I’m Hamid Saleh Haroun al Tahan.  But just Hamid is fine.”  He didn’t feel quite so self-conscious about reciting off his whole name given that his mind was still trying to wrap itself around Cel’s.  “He/him pronouns, I suppose.”

“Aww, thank you, buddy,” Cel replied.  “A lot of people aren’t used to needing to state their pronouns, but I think it’s a useful thing that everybody should get used to doing, it - wait!  This means we already made port!”

“Yes.  The ship arrived at the harbor three days ago, and left yesterday?” 

“Ohh… yeah, I totally didn’t notice.  I was too busy.”

“What were you working on?”  Hamid asked with genuine curiosity, even if he was moderately concerned for his health while in Cel’s seemingly scatterbrained presence. 

Cel’s eyes lit up.  “I am working on a new type of cannonball.  I’ve already devised a few different kinds with various elemental effects, lightning, ice, fire, the usual.  But this!  This one will pack a wallop .  Regular cannonballs, relatively small damage, tiny explosions if any at all.  This one should be able to take down small ships with just one good hit.  Kaboom!”

“Oh dear,” Hamid remarked, suddenly very aware that he would be present for naval battles.  He knew there would be risk and that the privateers’ work required them to board and attack enemy vessels, but the reality of it hadn’t quite hit him until that moment. 

“As you can see, the formula isn’t quite right yet.”  Cel wiped some more soot off of their face with an equally sooty rag.  “An explosion doesn’t help if it doesn’t wait for the cannonball to reach its destination.”

“I see.”

“So!  What can I help you with?”  Once their table was suitably cleaned and prepared for their next experiment, they sat on a cushioned bench and patted the space beside them for Hamid to sit as well, which he did. 

“I had a request, actually,” Hamid explained, though he somewhat regretted making it given the explosive state of the lab.  “I’m not accustomed to sleeping in a hammock or in a ship’s hold.  Captain Sm- Zolf told me that I was welcome to ask you if you wouldn’t mind me sleeping in here, that you might have an extra bunk that I could use.”

“A roommate?”  Cel beamed.  “Of course you can come stay here!  I don’t have a spare bunk yet, but I will!  I’ll get working on one right away.  Are you opposed to bunk beds?”

“No?”

“Awesome.  I call top bunk!”

With that, Cel darted toward some mechanical contraptions and started work in a blur of dust and steam. 

“I’ll go get my things from belowdecks, then, shall I?”

Without looking up from their work, Cel gave Hamid a thumbs up, and he went on his way.  By the time he dragged his bags back up, a jury-rigged second bunk was set atop Cel’s original bed, held up by rope, wood, and something that looked remarkably like a dented kettle.  Despite its wonkiness, both beds looked incredibly comfortable compared to the hammock Hamid had previously been assigned.

“What do you think?” 

“I think it looks wonderful,” Hamid replied, carefully setting his things in an empty alcove.  Terrifying in a structural sense, he admitted silently to himself, but so much better than the alternative. 

“Wait!  You’ll need a desk to write your super-special reports, right?  Let me get to work on that…”  Cel picked up a chunk of wood and darted back toward a machine, but Hamid stopped them.

“That’s alright.  I can write from my bunk.  Besides, I don’t have much of anything to write about for now, not yet.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll allow it.  Just say the word, and I’ll make you a desk though, don’t even worry about it.”

Hamid smiled.  “I appreciate it. 

Even with the explosions and overzealous roommate, this living situation was a significant upgrade.  He and Cel chatted a bit more, before Hamid made his excuses and tested out his new bed to catch up on the rest he’d missed the night before.  It was lumpy and scratchy and absolutely horrendous in comparison to the bed in his flat, but it was his.  Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or perhaps it was his new room and bed, but the waves weren’t so obnoxious here, and instead they soothed his mind and lulled him into a deep sleep.  

Chapter Text

After Hamid awoke from his much-needed nap, he immediately found himself in the role of Cel’s assistant.  When they found out that he was a wizard, they had him testing spells against some of their contraptions to see how they would hold up against magical attacks.  Their first big upgrade to the ship had been lacing the weave of the sail with adamantine fibers so that it could not be torn by average cannonballs or buckshot. 

At a certain point, though, all Hamid could do was run around the cabin and fetch obscure tools for Cel.  If they went to retrieve the items themselves, they often got distracted and started working on another project – they had five in progress all at the same time, by Hamid’s count.

As evening came around, Cel’s work had yet to cease, but Hamid crawled back into his bunk and fell asleep to the sound of tinkering, hammering, and the occasional swearing in a language he didn’t speak. 

The following morning, however, Hamid awoke with a start as a loud BOOM erupted and the ship rocked with a heavy impact. 

“What’s going on?”  He cried as Cel leapt from the haphazard top bunk above him. 

“We’re attacking!  Or someone is attacking us!”  They grabbed a crossbow that seemed ridiculously large and glowed with alchemical accoutrements, then turned back to Hamid.  “You should probably just hide here.  Safer that way.”

Despite the terror coursing through Hamid’s veins as Cel left the cabin with an excited cry, he quickly donned a pair of shoes and a proper jacket, then followed them outside.

Hope’s Call was in the early throws of combat with a ship a short distance away bearing a black flag.  With another explosion, the ship rocked again, and Hamid watched a cannonball fly from belowdecks toward their enemies and graze the hull.  His ears were ringing and the flurry of activity made him dizzy, so he clung to the wall of the captain’s quarters and pressed himself into it to stay out of the way. 

The two vessels began to circle one another until they were close enough that Hamid could see the determination on the brow of the other sailors and hear them cry out for blood. 

That moment passed in an instant as Grizzop swung across the gap between ships with a mighty goblin yell and landed in the center of their combatants. 

“What’s that?  A goblin?”

“Pfft.”

Grizzop grinned with sharp teeth and his red eyes flickered.  “I’ll take your kneecaps for that.”

He launched a flurry of arrows so quickly that Hamid could barely keep track of his draw.  A dark figure appeared behind an enemy sneaking up on Grizzop’s flank and dispatched them readily – Hamid hadn’t even seen Sasha go across to the other ship. 

Close as they were, Azu launched herself over the gap with a great axe in her hands and several hatchets strung to her belt, but when she engaged enemies, she only hit them with the flat of her blade.  As an orc against a mainly human crew, her blows were more than enough to send them flying. 

Some of the other sailors, whose names were a jumble of letters in Hamid’s mind, also jumped across the gap before any of their attackers could board Hope’s Call itself, taking the battle to them.  Figgis and Siggif fought side by side, while Giffis launched spells at any enemies who attempted to cross to their ship.  

Beside Hamid, Cel lobbed vials and bottles of glimmering liquid while cheering and occasionally firing their crossbow.  In the midst of their combat-based exuberance, they leaned over to Hamid and said, “I didn’t even get to try out my new spikey cannonball that fires poison darts when it breaks through the hull.”

Hamid said nothing, unable to remember how words worked.

“Uh, little buddy?  What’s going on with your hands?”

He looked down at where he gripped a beam of the cabin and saw two sets of claws where his hands should be.  Their talons gripped into the wood, and Hamid shrieked.

“I don’t know!  What is that?  How does that happen?  I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll figure it out.”

“Oh dear…”

Even with the confusion and fear coursing through Hamid’s veins, he couldn’t ignore the lull in the combat save for a few defeated yells coming from the enemy sailors.  He glanced back across the way to see them all kneeling in a line with Azu, Grizzop, and Sasha, and a few other crew members ready to incapacitate anyone who dared attempt to rise. 

A gangplank was dropped between the two ships and Captain Smith deliberately bridged the gap.  Between the distance and the continued ringing in Hamid’s ears, he couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but he saw Azu tie up a few of the prisoners and lead them back aboard Hope’s Call , while the other attackers were left unencumbered.  Zolf and his colleagues stepped back aboard, carrying with them crates of rations and cargo to be sold on the mainland, and the gangplank was raised while the three prisoners were led belowdecks, presumably toward the brig.  Hamid had looked at it briefly when he first arrived and tried to find a hammock more to his liking, before quickly leaving it alone and pretending it didn’t exist. 

“What now?”  He asked Cel, who had folded up their massive crossbow into something much more manageable and strung it on their back. 

They shrugged.  “Business as usual, I suppose.”

“What about them?”  He gestured his head toward the ship they’d just attacked while still holding onto the wall for dear life.

“Listen, most people don’t take to being pirates or plunderers for the fun of it.  They do it because they’re desperate and have no other options.  This ship, we’ve run into them before.  The captain is cruel and sadistic, but most of the crew?  They just want to get paid enough to send some money home to their families on land.  So, Zolf generally gives them a chance to see which way they’ll turn when the leadership is removed.  Will they keep being violent murderers attacking innocents?  Or will they help people?”

“That’s… what do Wilde and the meritocrats think of that?”

Cel shrugged again.  “Don’t really know.  I suppose we’ll find out soon enough when they get your reports, huh?”

They hardly seemed concerned at the recent battle or at the impending report to their superiors.  Meanwhile, Hamid looked down at his hands to see a pair of perfectly normal halfling hands. 

“You saw the claws, right?  I’m not just imagining this?”

“No, there were definitely claws.  Did you drink one of my potions?”

“No!”

“Not even just a sip?  I have one that turns me into a bat monster with big teeth and claws.”

“No, I swear I didn’t,” Hamid insisted. 

“Huh.  Weird.”

“That’s your advice?”

“I’m not a doctor,” they replied.  “It’s weird.  That’s my professional opinion on the matter.”

Hamid sighed.  “I suppose that’s fair.”  He extracted his grip and took several deep breaths as he felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. 

The combat had been a flurry of noises and blood, but it was over so quickly that Hamid had yet to process it or Zolf’s modus operandi of removing the captain and their cronies from dangerous ships to see how the crew would conduct themselves.  He wondered what the meritocrats would think of such an action. 

As the crew returned to Hope’s Call and resumed their duties with hardly more than an excited compliment about how someone got stabbed, Hamid turned to look toward Zolf, standing at the helm. 

The meritocrats may not like Captain Smith’s actions, but Hamid?  Hamid thought they were pretty noble indeed.

Chapter Text

After Hope’s Call had left their attackers in the distance, the crew carried on mostly as normal.  A few bouts of magical healing were issued to those who needed it, but no one had received much more than a scratch.  The ship itself had only taken a small amount of damage with a grazing cannonball hit, and Cel eagerly told Hamid about how they had upgraded the structure to make sure such attacks wouldn’t stand a chance. 

Once the few repairs were done, Hamid returned to Cel’s lab and his room, where he cleared away a less noisy and flammable mechanism so that he could write.  In the first of his reports to Wilde and other meritocratic officials, he detailed the attack by an enemy ship and how Hope’s Call had swiftly dispatched them, removing the dangerous element from its leadership in hopes that the remaining crew would set a straighter course.  Unsure how much of an opinion Hamid was allowed to add, he nevertheless made a point to accentuate how well the crew worked together and how Captain Smith demonstrated a good moral will in working to remove the evil from the seas. 

By the time Hamid finished, the sun had set and Cel, with their irregular sleeping schedule, was passed out in the dangerously haphazard top bunk.  He stretched and yawned, but decided to get some fresh air before he turned in as well. 

The deck was empty as darkness fell, and, for the first time, Hamid felt some relief as the salty breeze hit his skin, the smell of the ocean inundating his senses.  He started to walk towards a railing so that he could watch the sun finish its final descent beneath the horizon and look up at the stars again when he noticed two figures near the helm. 

At first, he paid this no mind; surely it was good to have someone there to steer the ship in case of emergencies.  After being cooped up all afternoon, Hamid made his way toward them to possibly introduce himself and simply to chat. 

“Oh, Zolf, good eve-”

“You should go back inside.”

Hamid blinked a few times in confusion, then turned his gaze to the person standing beside the captain.  He was bound and gagged. 

“What’s going on?”

“I told you to go back inside.”

“No.”  Hamid shook his head.  “What is this?  Is this one of the prisoners you took from the attacking ship this morning?”

“It’s none of your concern,” Zolf insisted, but Hamid held his ground even as his hands began to shake. 

“Why is he out from the brig?  What are you doing up here?  I don’t understand.  You’re going to throw him overboard or something?”

Zolf didn’t reply and Hamid blanched.

“You really are going to throw him overboard…  Why ?”

“He’s a cruel, violent, sadistic person,” he replied.  “Why does it matter to you?”

“It matters because his death is not for you to decide.  It’s for courts and judges and juries and lawyers.  We take him back to the mainland where he faces proper justice.  Not just meaningless death.”

“It is not meaningless,” Zolf stated firmly, his fist clenched tight at his side.  His prisoner had nowhere to go, so Zolf paid him no mind and spoke only to Hamid.  “Listen, I used to follow Poseidon.  Used to be a cleric.  And he was very much an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and drown those who deserve it.  I don’t worship Poseidon anymore, and I’m hardly the most superstitious pirate on the seas.  But I am still on the sea and I would rather hedge my bets and make a few sacrifices here and there to make sure my crew is not caught in the crossfire between me and the god I rejected.”

Hamid paused for a few moments.  “That doesn’t excuse what you’re doing.  It’s wrong.  I won’t let you do this.”

For a moment, Hamid felt terror course up his spine as he considered that he might soon be another sacrifice, albeit an unanticipated one.  Instead, the firmness in Zolf’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Fine,” Zolf spat.  “We will hand in the lot of them when we get back to port.  Wilde can deal with them.  But if anything goes wrong, if they get out and hurt anyone on this ship, you will be held responsible for it.”

“I understand.”

Hamid continued to stand at the helm of the ship while Zolf half led, half dragged the prisoner back belowdecks, presumably to the brig.  Part of Hamid wanted to follow, to make sure that Zolf was true to his word, but he couldn’t quite remember how to move his feet. 

He wasn’t sure if Zolf had abandoned his course of action because Hamid might speak poorly of him and Hope’s Call in his reports, which might have serious consequences for himself and his crew, or if it was something else.  Hamid knew there was some good in him – such was clear by how much he cared for the sailors under his command and the innocent both upon the waves and on land.  But he had no right to serve as executioner. 

Hamid decided to keep this to himself, for now.  The reports didn’t need to know about this. 

Once again, the salt air began to sting at his eyes and he couldn’t have seen the stars through his tears even if he’d wanted to.  Still shaking, hands balled up tight, Hamid stepped back into the cabin and crawled into bed, even if sleep was near impossible.

Chapter Text

Hamid never really got used to the fray of combat, the terror of battle as swords clashed and magic flashed through the sky in a furor.  However, he found a way to press that fear deep down inside himself, realizing that he was more useful using the magical training he’d spent so long mastering than clinging to a railing with hands that kept turning into claws. 

All the same, he was no soldier.  He only involved himself when necessary, like when a figure appeared behind Sasha, blade held aloft and ready to cut into her flesh.  A quick eldritch blast was enough to send them falling backwards and alert Sasha to the danger.

“Wait, you’re a magicky one?”  She cried to Hamid, a ship’s width apart, while sinking her daggers into the sailor that no longer posed her a threat.

“I’m a wizard!”

“Hey, as long as you’re on my side, it’s all good by me, mate.”

And in an instant, she was back in the shadows, and Hamid clung to the railing again.  This time, the claws didn’t appear.

After three more raids on pirate vessels and an unmarked Harlequin vessel, from which they took no captors and used only blunted weapons per Captain Zolf’s orders, Hope’s Call made port.  Empty supply crates were unloaded, and the crew laughed, eager for a few days off. 

Meanwhile, Wilde came aboard to examine the cargo acquired, to determine how best to deliver it to its destinations, but hesitated when he noticed a nearly full brig. 

“You brought prisoners?”  He asked, confused.  Then he turned to Hamid and explained, “Zolf’s never brought back prisoners before.”

“Oh, really?  How, uh, interesting…” Hamid replied, and Zolf rolled his eyes behind Wilde’s back. 

“Yeah, well, tried something new this time.  Figured you lot would want to interrogate them or something,” Zolf interjected.

“The bounty money is not insubstantial, either.”

“Give some of it to my crew, the rest of it, donate it to the temples.”

Wilde nodded.  “I can do that.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have quite a bit of work to do.”

“You mean staring into space for half an hour while surrounded by piles of paperwork?”  Zolf called after him, a smirk on his face.

“It’s all part of my process!”  Wilde’s voice echoed down into the hold, where Hamid and Zolf still stood. 

“You didn’t tell him about my… usual habits when it comes to prisoners, then?”  Zolf asked quietly, not meeting Hamid’s gaze.  “I know he looked through the reports already.”

“I didn’t write about that.  They don’t need to know.  Not yet, at least.  If it comes up again, maybe, but… the way you care for your crew, the way you try to help people… for goodness sakes, you gave away so much bounty money just now.  That’s more important.  That’s what my reports are about.”

Zolf nodded, then finally met Hamid’s eye.  “Well, thank you, for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that, Zolf hefted himself up the stairs, peg leg clattering against the steps, and left Hamid alone in the brig.

Not that he stayed there for long.  Hamid quickly scampered out of there and helped Grizzop move some items that were more suited to someone of their size, leaving the bigger things to Azu. 

“You’re coming with us for drinks, right?”  Grizzop asked, his ears poking out from behind a stack of small crates. 

“Drinks?”

“Of course.  We make port, we go for drinks!  And you’re part of the crew now.  There’s a place here, they’ve got everything, but whatever you do, do not drink the orcish moonshine.  That is only for Azu.  Everybody else?  Oh, bad idea.”

Hamid chuckled.  “That sounds fun, yeah, thank you.”

Once the ship was unloaded, Hamid found himself ushered along with his crewmates toward a seedy looking bar that he would never consider entering under any other circumstances.  However, the surroundings became much less terrifying when both the company and drinks were good.  Heeding Grizzop’s advice, Hamid was sure to stay away from the orcish liquor, though he still ended up moderately tipsy by the end of the evening. 

As the night grew into morning, the crew of Hope’s Call was politely ejected from the bar and began to weave their way back to the ship.  Along the way, Cel and Azu started to sing, and Hamid noticed something down an alleyway, something that sounded like whimpering.  When he paused to investigate, the drunken revelry carried on without him. 

Were those… eyes? 

“Hello?  Are you alright?”

With a faint clicking and clacking, the alley’s occupant stepped toward Hamid. 

“Hi there, are you hurt?  My name’s Hamid, what’s your name?”

“Skraak.”

“Skraak?  It’s nice to meet you, Skraak.  Do you have a place to stay?”

***

“What.  The hell .  Is that?”

“Oh, good morning!”  Hamid called as the captain appeared on deck.  Zolf stood and stared, wide-eyed, at the new individual in their midst.  “This is Skraak.”

“Get it off my ship.”

“What?  No!”  He exclaimed and positioned himself between the kobold and Zolf.  “They’re lost, and they don’t know where they’re from.  They can’t remember.  So, I thought they could come along and maybe they might remember their past or at least they can make a new life for themselves.  It’s not as if most places are particularly kind to kobolds, or any creature that isn’t definitively humanoid.  They won’t last in the city.”

Zolf stepped forward and grabbed Hamid’s arm, tugging him to the side of the ship where they could speak more quietly, even though it did nothing to keep the rest of the crew from staring.  At least this way they weren’t privy to every word of the conversation.  Skraak followed Hamid with a bowed head and shifting eyes.

“Seeing a kobold on a ship means the ship is cursed,” Zolf insisted, still gripping Hamid’s arm, though less forcefully now.  “Most ships have a Klabautermann, but they’re invisible, and they fix things, and they’re good, but if you see one?  If it becomes visible?  Doomed.  Doomed .”

“I thought you said you weren’t that superstitious.”

“I like to think I’m not!  But you stopped me offering sacrifices to the sea, and now there’s an omen standing behind you on the deck.  That’s not superstition.”

“It’s coincidence.”

“I’d rather not take that chance with my crew.”

Hamid took a deep breath and stood up tall, even though he was still much shorter than Zolf’s currently imposing frame.  “I will be responsible for any problems that arise involving Skraak.”

“I’m not worried about responsibility; I’m worried about the whole ship going down and nobody surviving.”

“I understand your concerns.”  Hamid looked between Skraak and Zolf, the former unable to understand the words that would decide their fate, and the latter firm in his commandment of the ship that he led.  “I’m new to the sea, and I know that I’m not the most well versed in its lore.  However, Skraak is lost.  They’ve been hurt - there are scars on their wrists as if they’ve been shackled.  They have nowhere to go, no one to help them, and no memory of how they even got here.  You have done so much to help people, people you don’t even know, and your crew looks up to you.  I look up to you.  But… does Skraak not deserve your help too?”

Zolf watched Skraak for a long while as he thought things over.  Then, he slumped, and met Hamid’s gaze. 

“Fine.  It can stay.  You’ve guilted me into this, and we’re all going to die.”

“Thank you, Zolf!”  Hamid exclaimed, beaming.  He turned to Skraak and passed on the news. 

“Wait a second,” Zolf interrupted.  “It doesn’t speak English?” 

Hamid shook his head.  “Just Draconic and Japanese, I think.”

“Wonderful, that won’t be a problem at all,” Zolf grumbled, before marching off to see to the ship. 

Moments later, Azu and Cel trounced over to Hamid and Skraak, hopeful smiles on their faces.

“Does the little buddy get to stay?”  Cel asked trepidatiously.

“Yes.  Though, apparently seeing a kobold onboard is bad luck and we’re all cursed?”

Azu rolled her eyes.  “Don’t worry about that.  I’ve seen some of the sea’s mythologies firsthand, but I doubt there’s anything to this rumor.”  She turned to Skraak and bent down a little bit so that she wasn’t completely towering over the kobold.  “I’m Azu.  It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, um, they only speak Draconic and Japanese,” Hamid interjected apologetically.

“Oh.  Well, please tell them that I’m glad to have them aboard.”

Hamid relayed the message and Skraak smiled up at Azu. 

Meanwhile, Cel knelt down on the deck and began chatting with Skraak in Japanese, and, soon enough, Skraak’s nervously twitching claws settled down and the terror in their eyes faded somewhat.  After a few moments, Cel looked over at Hamid.

“I didn’t realize you could speak Draconic.”

“I didn’t either?”

“That’s weird.”

“It is.  Very weird.”  It was Hamid’s turn to grip his hands in front of him and turn them in confusion and concern.  “I did train as a wizard, so maybe some spell got in there and randomly gave me the knowledge to speak that language, I… don’t know…”

“Well, whatever works.  Especially because I think you and I are the only ones here that will be able to talk to Skraak.”  Cel’s eyes widened with excitement.  “You two can teach me Draconic!”

“Only if you two teach me Japanese,” Hamid replied with a smile. 

Cel turned to Skraak and began speaking in Japanese.  Skraak then nodded furiously and grinned again, presumably in response to the suggestion of sharing languages.  After all, they would have plenty of downtime between missions and raids. 

Hamid showed Skraak into the lab and, with Cel’s help, crafted a bed and living space for the kobold.  They showed a keen interest in the alchemical supplies and a knack for the mechanical bobbles all around the space, which led to Cel promptly enlisting Skraak as an unofficial intern.  Even if Skraak did not like that term.

As Hope’s Call cast off, Hamid couldn’t help but laugh at Zolf’s concern.  Skraak was already making themselves useful and seemed infinitely more at ease than when Hamid had first met them.  Surely there was nothing so doomed about that?

Chapter Text

Between the three of them, Hamid, Cel, and Skraak made quick work of the basic linguistics of Draconic, English, and Japanese.  Cel was familiar with more languages than even Hamid, so knew the best ways to both teach and learn the nuances and confusing idiosyncrasies.  Even if English was still the most baffling language of them all. 

A few battles occurred while Hope’s Call scoured the seas, en route to intercept a Harlequin vessel containing supplies to fund the effort against the Meritocrats.  Captain Zolf didn’t seem particularly keen on this task but intended to carry it out as requested by Wilde and the government, if only to keep his crew safe from the law. 

Before they could reach the intercept point, however, Sasha hollered that a new ship was on the horizon, and closing fast. 

“What’s going on?”  Hamid asked as he, Cel, and Skraak took to the deck amidst the flurry of activity. 

“Unexpected visitors,” Figgis replied.  “Safe to say, we’ve ticked off quite a few groups and ships with our privateering.  Sometimes they decide to turn the tide, heh.”

Hamid nodded.  The hecticness of battle still made his head spin, but he’d gotten better with time and practice.  As the ship approached and the crew made ready their weapons, Hamid attempted to usher Skraak back inside the lab to take shelter, but they ran to a crate they’d recently sequestered from a group of pirates and pulled out a spear. 

“Alright,” Hamid said to them with a nervous nod.  “Stay safe, yeah.”

In Draconic, Skraak returned the sentiment.  “You too.”

The pair prepared themselves alongside the crew for the ship to get into range.  A volley of cannon fire erupted from each vessel, and Hamid’s ears began to ring.  Zolf slowed their ship, lowered the sails to keep them safe from buckshot, and brought them in close enough to board their attackers. 

But this time, Hope’s Call had no advantage, particularly as the frigate that pulled up beside them was significantly larger in size than their own ship, full of sailors with a bloodthirsty thrill in their eyes.  Grizzop immediately unleashed a hail of arrows at the first few who tried to board Hope’s Call , and Hamid blasted one into the deep with an eldritch blast while Cel rummaged through dozens of brightly colored vials hidden in their jacket.

Another several sailors flung themselves across the gap, but Azu swung her gigantic great axe and sent them staggering backwards, and Zolf wielded a flaming glaive with dizzying speed.  Skraak stabbed at a few foes and kept them back, but there were simply too many of them.  Soon, Azu was surrounded and Skraak was sent flying backwards by a hit of a maul, their body falling to the ground, motionless. 

Above it all, Sasha considered jumping across and trying to take out their attackers on their own ship, the archers and sailors keeping the gigantic vessel afloat, but then leapt down on one man approaching Hamid, two daggers jammed in his back. 

“Thanks.”

Sasha nodded, and then disappeared into the fray. 

Up at the helm, Zolf also found himself surrounded, an arrow embedded in the elbow joint of the armor beneath his jacket, impeding his motion.  Hamid threw an eldritch blast into the mix, but another attacker joined the skirmish.  Clearly, the pirates planned to eliminate Captain Smith, and then take his crew and ship for themselves. 

Hamid moved through the chaos, trying to reach the helm, to help Zolf with his fists if he had to, but the stairs were slick with blood and he stumbled.  As he looked up, a scimitar slashed across Zolf’s body and he cried out in pain. 

Climbing to his feet with a surety in his step, Hamid walked toward the group assaulting Zolf.  Rage and desperation filled his chest and a gout of pure flame poured forth from his mouth as he screamed.  Aflame, the enemies were distracted enough for Zolf to barrel into them with his shoulder and dump some over the edge, into the waves. 

“Are you alright?”  Hamid cried, racing toward him.

Zolf brushed some blood from the slice that ran up his left cheek.  “I’ll be alright.  Thank you,” he said as Hamid blasted the last standing enemy back with a flaming bolt.  “You wizards are scary.”

“I don’t think that was a wizard spell,” Hamid replied, his hands shaking and lip quivering.  “I don’t remember ever learning that, I didn’t prepare it… my hands turned to claws before, and that’s not a spell I know either!  I don’t know what’s happening…”

“We’ll figure it out, yeah?”  Zolf put a hand on Hamid’s shoulder to ground him and keep him from panicking.  “Right now, let’s get rid of the rest of these bastards, shall we?”

Hamid nodded, trying to keep the fear from welling up in his throat.  He and Zolf turned back to the rest of the battle, then Zolf waded into the midst after surrounding himself with a faint aura that yanked the arrow from his elbow and sealed the gash running across his face. 

Hamid’s eyes danced across the deck, at Zolf, still bleeding but fighting on; at Azu, surrounded by enemies who struck her on every side; at Sasha, darting to and fro in mists of blood that were both her own and her victims; at Grizzop, who laughed as a spear impaled him from behind; at Cel, lobbing flasks and vials, coating themselves and their enemies in scorching flame even as they stumbled; at Skraak, still motionless and still, though their hand had not relinquished its grip on their weapon. 

He didn’t know what power allowed him to breathe fire, but he called upon it again.  Anything to save his friends. 

Before any magic could manifest, however, something heavy clanked on top of his head and sent him staggering backwards, falling to the floor in a heap as his body gave out.  He tried to rise to his feet, but two human sailors grabbed him and tied his wrists together.  They shoved a gag in his mouth as one tucked Hamid under their arm and grabbed a rope to leave Hope’s Call behind.  Hamid wriggled and struggled in their grasp, but his tiny body didn’t stand a chance. 

“C’mon mates, they’re finished, and we’ve got a trophy of our own!” 

With Hamid held in one arm, the sailor swung back across the gap and onto the attacking ship, soon accompanied by their compatriots.  Hope’s Call was aflame, and its crew was terribly injured.  As the sails rose on this new ship, Hamid barely managed to meet Zolf’s gaze, fear and panic in both of their eyes, before the waves carried them apart. 

If he’d been closer, Hamid might have heard how Zolf demanded the members of his crew still standing to man the sails and get the ship ready to go after their attackers, to get Hamid back, to make them pay for all they’d done.  Maybe he would have heard Azu begrudgingly inform her captain that the ship needed repairs and that they were in no state to take off at speed.  Maybe he would have heard Skraak squeak in desperation as they awoke with Cel shaking them. 

But, as it was, Hamid couldn’t hear any of this.  All he heard was the cries of his kidnappers as they cheered in victory and carried him to their brig. 

Chapter Text

“What do you want with me?”  Hamid cried as his captors threw him into a cell belowdecks, slamming the metal door shut behind him.  “Tell me what it is, and I can figure something out.”  If it was money, his family had the funds, even if his father might be loath to part with it.  If it was influence with the meritocracy, he could negotiate something, ideally something that left these true pirates sated but without any real power in government.  If it was something else… Hamid didn’t know what else it could be. 

“Little dragon boy…”  One of the pirates said, smirking and leaning in close to the bars, banishing Hamid’s brave façade.  “You think we didn’t see you breathe fire?”

“If you’re wondering about that, I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Oh, we’re not confused.  We’re going to sell you.  There are a lot of people who would be thrilled to have a wizard with spells like that working for them.”

“Sell me?  What, as a slave?”  Hamid balked.  “I don’t even know how that spell happened.”

“Don’t care.”

“If you’re after money, I can get you money.  There’s no need for this slavery nonsense.”

The man snorted and began to walk away.  “That’s what they all say.”

He climbed the steps and left Hamid alone in the dark brig, surrounded by metal bars and wet wood, with no way out.  His bed was nothing but a sodden bedroll on the ground, right next to the bucket still filled with the last occupant’s excrement – and here he’d thought a hammock was uncomfortable. 

The crew of Hope’s Call would find him, surely.  They wouldn’t leave him. 

Hamid sighed and flopped down on the bedroll that did little to cushion his weight.  It’s not as if Captain Zolf had even wanted him onboard in the first place.  And then he interrupted his sacrifices and dragged a bad luck charm in the form of a kobold aboard his ship.  Why would Zolf come after him?  No more meritocratic oversight, no more interruptions, no more caring for someone who didn’t have a sailing bone in his body.

Hamid started to cry.  He didn’t know why he was able to breathe fire, why his hands turned to claws when he got scared, and he certainly had no idea what would come next.  Was he to be enslaved to some greedy, power hungry, violent sadist?  Or to the Harlequins, or some other group that sought to destroy all that Hamid stood for? 

He had no answers, and the desperation poured its way out of him in sobs.

Belowdecks, it was almost impossible to tell how many days Hamid remained a prisoner.  If he was given a meal twice a day, morning and night, as he expected, three days had passed.  What little hope remained in his heart that Hope’s Call might find him and rescue him faded away with each passing wave beating against the hull. 

His spells had little effect against the metal bars, clearly designed to keep magic-users safely locked up.  At one point, he considered firing an eldritch blast at the side of the ship itself, breaching a hole in the wood and taking the whole thing down with him.  But he wasn’t quite desperate enough for that yet.

Another day passed, and Hamid crawled into the bedroll with the mildew and damp, but something newly uncomfortable pressed into his hip.  He sat up, confused, and rummaged in his pockets to find what impeded his rest. 

A stone?

A stone!

Cel had explicitly told him not to touch anything when they left him alone the day after he moved into their laboratory.  Naturally, he was mesmerized by the technology and mechanisms and alchemical experiments that bubbled and whirred along, and walked around the cabin with awe in his eyes. 

But on one desk was a rock.  Just an ordinary rock, about the size of his palm.  It seemed so out of place, so alien in a lab filled with cutting edge science.

He touched it.  Of course, he touched it.  It was just a rock, after all.

“What is this?”  He wondered aloud, only to hear his voice echoing from a desk drawer, muffled and off by a fraction of a second. 

He never found an answer, as Cel and Zolf marched back into the lab a few seconds later.  It was all Hamid could do to shove the stone into his pocket and act inconspicuous as Cel began to show Zolf their plans for adding a lightning rod to the top of the mast. 

Hamid hadn’t realized the stone was still in his jacket pocket, or that he’d been wearing that jacket on the day of the raid. 

But now, he held the stone in front of him, and hoped.

“Cel?  Cel, are you there?  Please be there, please hear me.  Cel?  Skraak?  Anybody?”

He called for a few minutes before a croaky voice replied in Draconic.

“Hamid?”

“Skraak!”

“How did you get into the pebble?”

“I’m not inside the pebble, I’m speaking through it.  We can talk to each other through the stones somehow.”

Skraak paused.  “Is this a trick?  Hamid was captured.  I’m talking to a rock.”

“It’s me, Skraak, really.  Can you do me a favor?  Can you take this rock to the Captain, to Captain Zolf?  Or Cel?”

Without a response, the stone went silent.  Hamid begged whatever powers that be that the connection hadn’t failed or that Skraak hadn’t been interrupted. 

A few minutes later, another familiar voice emerged from Hamid’s speaking stone.

“Hamid?  How is this possible?”

“Something Cel was working on, I think?  It’s good to hear your voice, Zolf.”

“Likewise,” he exclaimed.  “We’re working on coming after you, don’t worry.”

“You are?”

“Of course we are.  We’re not just going to leave you.”  Zolf cleared his throat and hastily added, “Besides, do you know how much trouble I’d be in with Wilde and the meritocrats if their agent went missing while under my care?”

Hamid chuckled at how unwilling Zolf was to admit even the slightest trace of camaraderie.  “I knew you cared.”

“We’re maybe a day behind, though.  Hope’s Call took some nasty hits, but we’ve patched her up just enough to stay on the trail.  Don’t suppose you know where you’re headed?”

“I’m afraid not,” Hamid replied.  “They haven’t told me much, only that they plan to sell me as a slave because of the whole fire breathing thing.”

Zolf’s voice was muffled, as if he was speaking to someone else.  “Sell him as a slave?  Must be headed toward Shackle’s Point.”  Then he talked into the stone again.  “We have an idea where you’re going.  We’ll try to cut them off, and then they’ll pay for what they’ve done, to you, to my ship, to all of us.”

“Thank you,” Hamid breathed in relief.  “If I hear anything more, I’ll let you know.  Otherwise I probably shouldn’t talk too much in case they get suspicious.”

“Good call.  Just hang in there, alright?  We’re on our way.”

The stone went silent, and Hamid cried again.  He had run out of fearful and defeated tears, but now he had happy tears to cry, and falling asleep on the hard deck didn’t seem quite so uncomfortable anymore, with hope on the horizon.  

Chapter Text

Another day passed.  Hamid clutched the mobile stone between his fingers at every opportunity in the hope that Zolf or one of the crew would contact him soon, that his rescue would be at hand.  He only hid it, burying it deep in his pocket, when a sailor came to deliver his meals. 

When a voice finally appeared through the stone, Hamid was half asleep in his cell. 

“Hamid?  Hamid, you there?”

“Cel?”

“That’s me!  You should probably brace yourself.”

Before Hamid could register what they said, the ship rocked violently to the side with a deafening explosion.  He thudded into the wall.

“Could’ve used a little more warning on that one,” he muttered, half for Cel’s benefit and half for his own.

“My bad, little buddy!  See you soon!”

Hamid tucked the stone back into his pocket and mentally ran through his spells, even though he had recently found himself casting spells he never learned.  It didn’t matter.  He would be ready.

The ship shook two more times and the sailors above began to shout and yell, moments before Hamid could hear a volley of arrows pound into the deck above. 

“It’s that goblin again.”

“You betcha!”

Grizzop always did know how to make an entrance. 

Combat raged above decks and Hamid itched to help, to aid in his own rescue, but he still couldn’t break past the bars.  All he could do is wait and hope that none of his friends were injured on his account.

A puff of purple smoke trickled down the stairs, and the sounds of battle grew silent.  Familiar voices shouted commands as the telltale sound of a peg-leg tromped down the stairs into the brig. 

“Zolf!”

“Let’s get you out of there.”

Using a key he must have taken from one of the enemy sailors, Zolf swung the door open to free Hamid at last.  Hamid raced toward him and engulfed him in a hug, burying his face into Zolf’s neck and squeezing him tight.  Hesitantly, Zolf’s hands slowly moved to hug Hamid back.

“I thought you were going to leave me,” Hamid sobbed.  “I thought you’d all want me gone and take this as a blessing and just…”

“What?  We’re not going to leave you.  I’m just sorry it took us so long.  Our ship was really busted up after their assault and we couldn’t move at speed right away until we did some rudimentary repairs.  Leaving you wasn’t even a consideration.”

Hamid let out another sob, still clinging to Zolf.  “Thank you.  I’m… yeah, thank you.”

“Yeah, well.  Don’t worry about it.”  Zolf paused.  “We should probably get going before Cel’s sleeping gas wears off.  Besides, if I don’t hurry up and get you back, I think Skraak will burn this whole ship down with all of us still on board.”

Hamid chuckled and allowed Zolf to extract himself from his embrace.  “Let’s go.  I’ve spent enough time here.”

Zolf led the way toward the stairs, where the faint purple tendrils of smoke were starting to fade. 

“Here, wrap this around your nose and mouth.”

Hamid did as he was told with the wet bandana provided.  Zolf did the same, and they passed through the mist without trouble and back across the gangplank to Hope’s Call . 

“Got everything?”  Zolf asked, and Azu nodded as she knelt and pulled Hamid into a hug. 

“Alright,” Zolf continued.  “Let’s get out of here.”

They pushed off and left the other vessel behind.  A few moments later, during which the crew embraced Hamid with varying degrees of physicality, Zolf added, “You’re up, Cel.”

With a snicker, the ship in the distance exploded into debris until it was nothing but wreckage sinking beneath the waves.  Cel then joined the procession that welcomed Hamid back.

“Good to see you, little buddy.  Even though I’m pretty sure I told you not to touch any of my stuff.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Are you kidding?  You nicking that stone probably saved your life,” Cel remarked.  “Keep it.  Who knows when you’ll get into trouble again?”

“I hope no time soon,” Hamid laughed.  “I’m so glad to see all of you, you have no idea.”  Skraak hadn’t left Hamid’s side since he got aboard, still clinging to his arm with no intention of letting go. 

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up,” Zolf suggested as the crew began to disperse and tend to their duties, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and any straggling survivors under the cover of darkness.  “Get some rest.  We’ll be back in London soon.”

“We’re going back to London?  I didn’t think we were headed back there so soon.”

“Ship needs repairs.  We did what we could, but we can’t fix it all on the open sea or with the supplies we have on hand.  And, um, I honestly expected that you’d want to leave after all this.”

“Oh.”  Hamid said nothing for a long moment.  “Leaving hadn’t even crossed my mind.  I’d like to stay, if you’ll allow me to.”

A small smile appeared on Zolf’s face.  “Of course.  You’re not so bad.”

Hamid grinned.  That was as good a compliment as he expected he would ever get from Zolf. 

With that, he turned toward his cabin and washed himself, changed clothes, and crawled into bed, stretching and relaxing in the coziness. 

Life at sea was so unlike anything he had ever experienced.  And even with the threat of death and kidnapping, Hamid didn’t plan to give it up.  The looks of relief on everyone’s faces as he came back aboard… these were good friends, better friends than he’d had before.  They came for him, rescued him, helped him, even at risk to themselves.  Hamid planned to repay that kindness and help Hope’s Call in whatever way he could.

Chapter Text

The trip back to London was laden with storms.  Up to this point, Hamid hadn’t found himself getting seasick, but now the illness hit him in full force, and Cel provided him with a bucket as he resigned himself to bedrest.  The violent thrashing of the ship offered no reprieve, and he couldn’t even go look at the stars during the evening because the angry skies never let up. 

One evening, the waves were less violent, so Hamid left the cabin to get fresh air, desperate for a change of pace even as his ill body raged against movement.  He was immediately drenched in rain and Hamid stood, eyes closed, letting the elements soak through him.  Sure, he would probably get even more sick from such an action, but for the time being it felt wonderful.

“What are you doing out?  You’ll catch your death,” Zolf cried as he saw Hamid on deck.  Even with water retardant clothing, he was soaked through as well, but seemed to pay it no mind. 

“I have to get some fresh air.  Even if it’s full of rain and lightning.”

“Well, when you get even more sick, don’t come crying.”

“Wouldn’t plan on it.” 

Hamid looked out at the roiling waves, the dim moonlight that poked through the clouds illuminating their peaks and the mingling of the sea mist and the rain’s deluge. 

But there was something else among the waves.  A shimmering that didn’t look like water.

“Zolf?  Is that normal?”

“What are you talking about?”

The metallic glint breached the waves again as Zolf stepped to Hamid’s side and peered at the waves. 

“That… metal thing… Is that just something that happens at sea?”

“I don’t see it.”

“There!”  Hamid pointed and a distant flash of lightning illuminated the metal tendril that laced across the top of the sea, unaffected by the currents with its sheer monstrous size. 

“Oh no,” Zolf exclaimed quietly.  “That is most definitely not just something that happens at sea.  I’ve never seen anything like that…”  He shook his head.  “Get back inside.”  He began to yell for other crew members to man their posts and increase their speed away from that part of the storm, lest whatever strangeness they saw decided to come closer. 

It wasn’t until they were a day and a half away from London that the storms finally subsided enough for Hamid to work on his reports again.  Previously, the waves had been so vicious that attempting to write left him scribbling uncontrollably all over a page.  Part of him wanted to leave out his kidnapping, in case the meritocratic officials decided it was a slight against Zolf and Hope’s Call , but he would fight in favor of the crew and their bravery in battle at even the slightest provocation.

They came after him.  They rescued him, even when their ship was damaged and they had nothing to gain by risking themselves for him.  Hamid would never forget that.

Hope’s Call would be at port for an unspecified amount of time, depending on how quickly repairs could be made, so Hamid deposited his reports at Wilde’s office and then sought out wizards who could tell him why he knew spells he shouldn’t know and why he could suddenly breathe fire.  They weren’t particularly helpful.  One mentioned that he might be a sorcerer, but that would make him a rarity of extreme proportions and imply dabbling in his bloodline that was impossible.  There had to be another reason. 

He spent much of his spare time studying, looking for answers in the pages of books, while occasionally lending a helping hand to Cel and Skraak as they ‘assisted’ the builders repairing the ship.  Of course, the crew did take him out for a party to celebrate him not getting sold into slavery, and that whole day was a blur.  Hamid didn’t learn anything about his particular brand of magic, but he did learn a lot about sailor’s drinking habits.

After a few days at port, Hamid was called into Wilde’s office.  Wilde had none of his usual flair and instead seemed almost severe. 

“What’s going on?”

With a sigh, Wilde sat at his desk, across from Hamid, and replied, “I’ve read your reports, and the part about you being captured-”

“You absolutely cannot blame Captain Zolf and the crew for what happened.  They fought admirably and undertook great risk to rescue me, I will-”

“That’s not what I mean.  Obviously it is a concern to have a meritocratic agent captured while in the hands of a Harlequin aligned captain, but-”

“Wait, Zolf is a Harlequin?”

“Did he not tell you that?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Hamid pondered.  “I didn’t take him as particularly loyal to the meritocracy, but I didn’t realize he was a Harlequin…”  That only made him going out of his way to save Hamid all the more significant; it would have been lifetimes easier for him to abandon Hamid and carry on his way.

“Yes, well, he is known to associate with them.  His family was well regarded in their circles.  But, Captain Smith does seem more focused on providing aid, regardless of who sits in government, and his dedication to his work and his crew hasn’t wavered.”

“So… what’s the problem?”

Wilde let out another sigh.  “The issue doesn’t come with you being kidnapped.  Though, of course, that is an issue and I’m very glad you’re alright, but that’s more of a sea issue than a meritocracy one.”  He explained, “You mentioned in your reports being able to spontaneously conjure up fire and grow claws.  I made some inquiries with your family as to whether or not there might be a magical disease in your line that would cause such a thing.  Instead, I received word from Egypt’s meritocrat himself, Apophis, that I am to cease such inquiries, lest they add more prying eyes.  As such, I was wondering what you might know about all of that.”

Hamid sat silent for several moments, thinking over the comments from the wizards calling him a sorcerer, to the way he woke up with something akin to scales on him a few days ago.  He’d thought he was just really, really sick…

“Am I a descendant of Apophis?”  Hamid squealed. 

“What!?”

“I think… I think I have draconic blood.  I have scales, and can spontaneously speak Draconic, and…  That’s a way to be a sorcerer, right, to have a dragon as an ancestor?  Is Apophis my great-great-grand dragon?”

Hamid and Wilde stared at each other in shock for a while before Wilde stood. 

“Hold that thought.”

He disappeared from the office and came back a few minutes later, holding a purple cloak. 

“Put this on.  It’ll tell us the truth.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Hamid admitted, holding the soft fabric in his hands.  Then, he shook his head.  He had to know.

He donned the cloak and spun as Wilde instructed him to so that he could see the back of the garment. 

“This is… this is a lot ,” Wilde murmured.  “This cloak only works on sorcerers, and it shows their family tree to the point where the sorcery manifested.  And, uh, yeah.  Apophis is there at the top.”

“I have a great-great-grand dragon?”  Hamid exclaimed.

“That certainly is one takeaway from this.”  Wilde wandered back to his desk and tossed himself into the chair.  “No wonder Apophis didn’t want me to dig into this.  If anyone were to find out he had offspring, let alone that said offspring owns and runs one of the most prolific and successful banks in meritocratic controlled lands… this could upset everything.”  He then looked back up at Hamid.  “Do you think that the sailors who captured you knew this?”

“Absolutely not!  Even I didn’t know until now.  They saw me do something strange and decided it could be profitable.  That’s all it was.”

“Hmm.  I think you should stay on land for now, until we make sure this information doesn’t get out.”

Hamid frowned.  “With all due respect, Wilde, I’m going back out when Hope’s Call is repaired.  I’m not going to live in a box in the hope that no one finds out what I am.  I’m of better use with Captain Smith.”

It was so much to take in, to process, but Hamid was sure in his conviction.  There was no way any average sailor would piece together his heritage in a few scarce encounters, and he couldn’t imagine that Apophis would be thrilled to see his descendant waste away hiding because of his blood in them.  Hamid had power and a unique opportunity to make sure that such power was used for good.

With a smile that almost looked proud, Wilde nodded.  “I understand.  I recommend you don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, and I promise absolute confidentiality on my side as well.”

“Of course.  If we’re done here, I think I’m going to go to the library and find some books on sorcery, if that’s alright.”

“I think that would be a very wise decision.”

Hamid headed to the door and out onto the streets, moving in a haze.  The only sight that grounded him was the drydock holding Hope’s Call , along with the knowledge that the crew of that vessel would stand by him no matter his bloodline.

Chapter Text

Even as repairs concluded on Hope’s Call , the storm the crew had just outrun made landfall and kept them trapped.  At first, the need for repairs had been an almost welcome break for the crew, allowing them to handle affairs on land and send word to family or friends that might otherwise not hear from them for a few more months.  But now, trapped on land with no end in sight, everyone was itching to get going again.

“We’ve got a new job to do.”

“Does that mean we finally get to leave?”  Grizzop asked, looking up from his cards long enough for Sasha to play yet another winning hand and collect an arrow as reward. 

“Once the weather lets us,” Zolf explained, and everyone groaned. 

Many sailors packed into the various portside bars and flophouses as the tides and storms kept them trapped.  Zolf ignored the protestations of his crew and drew up a chair to their game of cards.  Instinctively, Sasha dealt him in. 

“Wilde wants us to figure out where these storms are coming from.”

“Uhh…”  Grizzop grumbled.  “Isn’t it, like, the sky?”

“Boss, they’re storms,” Sasha added.  “If anything, isn’t your old god responsible?  Or it’s just, you know, the weather.  Which is still really cool to me after living underground for so long, but this is just excessive at this point.”

“Wilde doesn’t think that they’re just storms,” Zolf said as he absentmindedly played a hand without even looking at his cards.  “There are more and more of them popping up, hitting major ports and keeping all trade locked down.”

Azu piped up, “Sounds like climate change to me.”

“Maybe,” Zolf replied.  “But our job is to figure out whether that’s ‘all’ it is-” he used his fingers to form air quotes “-or if there’s something more sinister afoot.  He thinks that the metal tentacle thing Hamid and I saw might have something to do with it.”

“So… we’re going to track down the gigantic metal thing that may or may not be responsible for storms all over the world?”  Hamid hoped that the tremor in his voice wasn’t quite as obvious as it sounded. 

“Basically, yeah.  Obviously, anybody can sit this one out; this is a bit bigger than our usual piracy.”

“Not a chance, boss,” Sasha said with a faint smile, and the rest of the crew indicated their agreement. 

“You too, Hamid?”  Zolf turned to him, and Skraak also looked at Hamid expectantly.

“Of course I’m coming along.”

“You sure?  You didn’t handle the storms particularly well last time around.”

Hamid sighed.  “Well, I’ve got to get more used to it, I guess.  And if I can help in the times in between… I’ve started to get a better handle on some of my new magics, so if it comes to combat again, I think I stand a better chance.”

“Presumably, that means Skraak is coming too?”  Zolf asked with moderate disappointment in his voice. 

In response, Skraak squeaked an affirmative and shook their feet, which dangled far above the ground in the chairs intended for medium sized creatures. 

Before anyone else could say anything, Cel returned to the table, carrying a tray full of drinks. 

“Here’s the next round,” they said as they started to distribute the beers and liquors to the group.  Hamid eyed his wine warily, but, even if it was a vintage much less fine than he was used to, it wasn’t all that bad after acclimating to it.  “What’s happen’, cap’n?  Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine,” Zolf replied.  “You remember that metal thing Hamid and I said we saw in the latest storm?”

“How could I forget?  I want it!”

“Well, you’re in luck then.  Any chance you can track something like that down?”

Cel’s eyes went wide.  “I mean, it would be easier if I had a sample or knew just how big the thing was, but based on the disruption it would cause to the currents, its magnetism, and just a mere estimation of the sheer size of it…”  They rambled for several moments, before looking back up at Zolf and nodding.  “Yeah, I definitely think I can.  I’m going to need some more supplies though.”

Zolf nodded.  “Get what you need.”

For the remainder of the evening, Cel was distracted and soon excused themselves from the game of cards entirely to jot down ideas and ridiculous looking formulae on a series of napkins stolen from the bar.  Just glancing at them made Hamid’s head spin, and he could read magical script and had studied mathematics at university.  Instead, he focused on how Sasha continued to win every hand of cards, and he dutifully handed over spools of brightly colored thread as his lost bet.  They’d said no money, nothing of extreme value, so Hamid picked up something important to him yet neither costly nor precious to use as collateral in their many games.  And, this way, when someone inevitably came to him with a torn piece of clothing and asked him to mend it, he had what he needed easily accessible and ready to provide a slight pop of color to even Sasha’s monochromatic outfits. 

“Oh, Zolf, if you don’t mind, I have a request,” Hamid said while Sasha and Grizzop began to bicker over whether or not he’d just seen her cheat and Azu attempted to separate the two of them. 

“What is it?”

“I have… some new spells I would like to try out, but they’re a little more… inflammatory than some of my others?”

“More inflammatory than straight up breathing fire?”  Zolf teased. 

“Well, more in that vein, I suppose.  I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind supervising, in a way, just in case something goes wrong, and I need a quick bout of healing.  Since we’re stuck here anyway and Cel needs to rig up whatever contraption they’ve devised…”

“Of course,” he replied.  “We can meet in the dry dock tomorrow morning, before anybody else shows up?”

“Sounds good.  Thank you.”

Chapter Text

The following morning, Hamid practically jumped when he heard footsteps approaching before he recognized the click of Zolf’s peg leg.  He’d sequestered himself away in a small, unpopulated portion of the dry dock and stood before a tall wall of crates – an impromptu target for his new, fiery catalogue of spells. 

“Morning,” Hamid called. 

“Yeah, good morning.”  They were both a little hungover from another late night drinking and gambling, but Hamid’s nervousness and Zolf’s general seriousness kept the alcohol from affecting them too severely.  “So, what are these new spells you’ve got?”

To demonstrate, Hamid took a deep breath and felt the heat of his body, the pulse of his heart, and the steam of his breath, then pointed at the wall of crates.  Fire streamed out from his finger in a fast-moving beam that set one instantly alight and broke it into shards of wood. 

“Oh, that’s… what happened to your eldritch blasts and what not?”  Zolf asked, though clearly impressed by Hamid’s spellwork. 

“I still have those,” Hamid explained.  “But I learned about how I have my magic which means I can have other spells now.”

Zolf detected the hesitancy and stuttering in Hamid’s voice and narrowed his eyes in skepticism. 

“Alright, listen.”  Hamid stepped close to Zolf, who stiffened, but didn’t move as Hamid leaned up to whisper in his ear.  “I’m apparently a descendant of Apophis.”

“Like… the Apophis?”

“Yeah.  Which means I have dragony spells now.  Fire and all that.  And that’s why my hands turn into claws when I’m scared.”

Zolf said nothing but glanced between the still smoldering remnants of crate and Hamid with his jaw agape. 

“That’s a lot,” he finally murmured, and Hamid nodded.

“I trained as a wizard, learned to prepare spells and read and study, but it never really made a difference.  And now I know why.  The magic is in me, inherently.  I’m a sorcerer.”

“Isn’t that the sort of thing you put a teacup on?”

Hamid chuckled.  “Not quite.  It just means that I have innate magic.  I don’t really have to learn spells, they just… come to me.”

“Must be nice,” Zolf grumbled with a smile.  “I’ve got to plan and meditate.”  He paused.  “Thank you for trusting me and telling me the truth.”

Hamid gave a nod.  “Wilde thought it might be better for me to stay on land, to hide myself away, at least for a while, in case somebody else finds out who I am.”

“But you didn’t want to?”

“No.  I wanted to come back.  I hope you don’t mind, of course.”

Zolf smiled a bit wider and put a hand on Hamid’s shoulder.  “We’re happy to have you.  I’m happy to have you, honestly.”

Hamid beamed up at him.

“Alright, now let’s see what other stuff you can set on fire.”

“My pleasure.”

Hamid turned back to the crates and cast a few more scorching rays at them, practically jumping with joy as they broke apart in miniature explosions. 

“Alright, this is the big one.”

Zolf dutifully took a step back.  Hamid closed his eyes and took another deep breath, then pointed again at the crates.  From his finger, a small spark raced toward its target and then engulfed all of them in a gigantic inferno, the force of which sent Hamid rocketing backwards, and Zolf barely managed to catch him before he clattered to the ground. 

After catching him, Zolf extended his hand and conjured water to put out the flames before they could spread to the entire warehouse.  Once the fire was nothing more than steam, he helped Hamid back to his feet. 

“Oh dear…”  Hamid said with wide eyes, clutching his palm. 

“That was definitely something.  Please don’t use that against my ship, though.”

Hamid laughed. 

“What’s wrong with your hand?”  Zolf questioned as he reached out to examine it. 

Hamid set his hand in Zolf’s.  “I think it got a little burned.  No big deal.”

However, as they both looked at the scorched skin, small, brassy scales seemed to appear on the edges of the burn. 

“I haven’t seen that before,” Zolf remarked.

“Oh.  I’m part dragon,” Hamid realized.  “I guess I have… scales?”

Zolf opened his mouth to speak, but then just shook his head and allowed a healing energy to flow from his hand into Hamid’s, mending the edges of the burn.  It did nothing for the scales, though. 

Hamid stared back and forth at the scattered remnants of crates and at the scales on his hand, then landed on Zolf. 

“Well, I think that’s enough chaos for today.  Thank you for being here.  Otherwise, I might have burned this entire place down by accident.”

Zolf let out a single, breathy chuckle.  “No worries.  I’m happy to help.  And… Hamid, sincerely, thank you for trusting me.  You really are always welcome on Hope’s Call .  You’re part of the crew, a part that I think has made us better as a whole.”

Grinning, Hamid turned and gave Zolf a quick hug, then pulled away and took several steps back. 

“Things with my family have been… tense, recently.  But being with all of you… it feels good.  It feels right.”

“Good,” Zolf replied.  “Now, what do you say we get some breakfast and go see what Cel’s done to my ship?”

“I already had breakfast, but second breakfast sounds great!”

Zolf shook his head, smiling.  “Come on.  My treat.”  Together, they left the smoking dry dock behind and grabbed a quick bite to eat on their way back to the ship.

***

There wasn’t much that Cel could have gotten done overnight, even with their erratic sleeping schedules, but that hardly stopped them from covering the lab in equations and scribbles.  Paper littered the space; Hamid distinctly remembered waking up to a notebook getting tossed on top of him as Cel absentmindedly needed a place to put it. 

Now, as Zolf and Hamid entered the lab, Skraak cast them a worried glance. 

“Where’s Cel?”

“Over here!”  They emerged from behind a stack of books and myriad mechanisms that Hamid still didn’t recognize even after living with Cel for months. 

They’d been laying on the ground in the middle of a heap of books and journals.  A pen was behind each ear, and they had another in their hand, and three more in their shirt pocket.  An equation was spread out over three pieces of paper. 

“So… it’s going well?”  Hamid asked skeptically.  He cast a glance over at Skraak.  The kobold and Cel worked well together, and often left Hamid completely confused in the midst of their technobabble, which switched fluidly between Japanese, English, and Draconic at this point.  But this time, Skraak simply gave Hamid a shrug.  Until they started making the actual contraption, they didn’t have any more insight to offer than anyone else.

Cel bounded to their feet and hopped over a remarkably tall pile of books to stand before the assembled crowd.  “Yes, actually,” they replied with a smile.  Ink was smudged all over their cheek.  “I think I know what we need.  I had an idea last night, but I’ve done some simple equations to work out the more precise quantity and quality of the materials required.  If what I’m thinking of works – and it will work – then it should detect fluctuations in the currents and other environmental factors that are off due to the sheer gigantic size of the thing you guys have seen in the water.  That metal thingy was bigger than a ship!  If we can correlate this data with weather data, we should be able to track it down in no time.”

“Great,” Zolf said.  “I don’t understand any of it, but I know you do, so, have at it.  Do you need help getting supplies?  Do you have enough gold?”

“I know where you keep the cash, Zolf, I’ll get what I need.  And I should go alone.”  Their expression grew serious.  “Strangers aren’t welcome where I’m going to get what we need.  I’ll bring Sasha to watch my back since I know they won’t see her unless she wants them to.”

“Didn’t realize the mad scientist rings of London were quite so dangerous,” Hamid joked, but Cel shot him a stern look as they donned a jacket to head into the city. 

“Don’t make fun of it, little buddy.”

He held his hands up defensively.  “My apologies.”

With that, Cel smiled, apology clearly accepted, and headed on their way.  Through the door, the group could hear them call for Sasha and ask if she wanted to join Cel on a trip where there was a decent chance she would get to stab someone.  For several moments, Hamid, Zolf, and Skraak just glanced cautiously at each other, half confused by the equations and schematics Cel left behind, and half terrified that they might accidentally anger the evil alchemists of London.

Chapter Text

It took over two weeks for Cel to track down all of the required components and then assemble them into a device that could track down the storms before they were spotted and try to identify any outside manipulation that might be causing them.  Once it came to construction, Skraak eagerly offered their aid.  The process took over the entire lab, and Hamid found himself moving into the hold after getting clobbered by haphazardly discarded tools and bits of metal for the third time in the middle of the night. 

He still didn’t care for the hammocks, but at least without the waves shaking everything from side to side he stood a better chance of getting into it without falling flat on his face or getting twisted up in the fabric.  All the same, he couldn’t help but feel that he might not mind the waves so much anymore.  He even found himself rocking instinctively side to side for the first day after making port, bouncing to nonexistent waves.  And, besides, if he could learn to sleep through Cel’s midnight experiments, surely he could get used to sleeping in a hammock on shifting seas.

He would still stick with the bed though, once he could wrest it back from serving as an extra workbench.  He knew Cel and Skraak needed the space, and it wasn’t as if Hamid knew any way to aid their efforts, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want it back once they were done. 

A week into the process, the storms receded enough that other ships were getting back underway, but Hope’s Call stayed put, lest Cel need some extra equipment that they could only find on land. 

Hamid liked to check in occasionally, half in case Skraak and Cel needed an extra set of hands and half to make sure they hadn’t accidentally burned any of his things that remained in those quarters.  Eventually, the piles of scrap began to morph and change, until, one day, Hamid found a large, clumsy shape sitting on Cel’s worktable, a sheet obscuring any details, with Zolf off to the side, waiting for Cel and Skraak to reveal their results. 

“Oh, you’re just in time!”  Cel exclaimed as Hamid poked his head into the room.  “Come in, come in.”  He stood tentatively next to Zolf and prepared himself for a show.

Cel put on their best presenter voice.  “The combined efforts of Skraak & Sidebottom, Sidebottom & Skraak, present to you… Drumroll, Skraak,” they instructed quietly, and Skraak dutifully began to beat their hands against their thighs in anticipation.  “We present to you, this thing!”

With a flourish, Cel pulled off the sheet and Skraak ceased their drumroll to announce “ta-da!”  A whirring contraption with electricity sparking off the edges stood before them. 

Despite the excitement and joy in both Cel and Skraak’s eyes, neither Zolf nor Hamid really had any idea what to say.

“Uh… what does it do?”  Zolf finally asked.

“Now, Mr. Smith, I am so glad you asked.  This bad boy – or girl, or neither, or both! – can track weather patterns before they’re noticeable, even before the most keen sailors catch a whiff of a storm coming.  Also, it can track shifting currents and displacement of the water, to try and track down that big metal thingy you guys saw, in case that is related to the storms.  It works by reading the barometric pressure first and… you know what?  It doesn’t matter how it works, only that it does .”

Skraak gave another excited “ta-da!” when Cel finished, the pair of them still beaming at their confused audience. 

“Well, great,” Zolf said.  “You did good, both of you,” he added begrudgingly, giving Skraak the smallest glance.  “We’ll set sail in the morning, if you’re sure you’ve got everything you might need?”

“We have plenty of replacement parts in case something goes wrong,” Cel replied.  “Let’s go chase some storms!”  They turned to Skraak and the pair high fived seamlessly. 

Zolf gave Hamid a glance that said, ‘I don’t know how that thing works but I guess we’ll go with it,’ and then headed out of the lab, leaving Hamid alone with the scientists. 

“I think it’s great!”  Hamid cried, smiling.  “Is it supposed to be sparking like that?”

“We’re going to give that a yes and no.”

Hamid didn’t know what to say to that.  “Fair enough, I guess.”

Skraak looked up at Hamid.  “Your bed is yours again.  Sorry for accidentally hitting you with that cog…”

“It’s alright.  It was worth it for science, right?” 

“Science!” 

Despite the exuberance, Hamid couldn’t help but feel the side of his head where a metal gear had hit him when it flew out of Skraak’s hand in a flurry.  The night after that incident, he had moved into the hold with the rest of the crew. 

But now, Hamid gave Skraak a hug and smiled at Cel.  The sparks and the occasional grinding noise didn’t seem great, but the creators seemed thrilled enough at the machine and its work, so who was Hamid to judge?

***

Hamid had hoped that the metal tendril he and Zolf had seen in the midst of the earlier storm had been a fluke, or some sort of shared hallucination.  But as Hope’s Call followed the directions given by Skraak & Sidebottom’s Wondrous Weather Device and plunged into more and more dangerous maelstroms, it turned out that Hamid’s hoping was for naught.

During each storm, at least one person on the crew would see another shimmering, mechanical appendage breach the waves.  The terror that coursed through Hamid at the sheer size and scale of such a machine was the only thing to keep his seasickness at bay. 

“Does it look like a tentacle to anybody else?”  Sasha called from the crow’s nest.  Even as the ship rocked violently from side to side, she sat perched on the edge without a worry. 

“Definitely a tentacle,” Grizzop said after scaling the mast to look at the flailing line from Sasha’s vantage point. 

Azu turned toward her companions, lifting her eyes from the waves.  It wasn’t often that Azu got visibly rattled, but she was completely stiff and still with fear. 

“It’s not just a tentacle,” she said.  “There’s a whole… creature… attached to it.”

Cel raced to her side and looked down where Azu gestured.  Their eyes grew wide.

“Skraak and I are going to have to make some recalibrations.  That is a lot bigger than I could have predicted.”

Cel disappeared into their lab while Sasha and Grizzop watched the tentacles from above.  Hamid, meanwhile, stepped up to Azu and looked over the edge.

Beneath them, far below the surface, a gigantic eye stared up at the ship and all its occupants.  It was metal, just like the rest of its enormous body, but it felt so large that it could drown all of them just by looking. 

“Is it… a squid?”  Hamid asked, instinctively reaching to hold onto Azu’s arm as vertigo took over.  Falling overboard in this sort of storm would have been bad enough without a leviathan waiting in the waves.

“A kraken.”

Azu and Hamid turned to see their captain stepping over to them, a sterner than usual look on his face as the wind buffeted them.

“What’s a kraken?” 

“Basically, a giant squid.  A really giant squid.  They’re aren’t many of them, maybe only one, honestly, nobody knows for sure.  But they can take down an entire ship with their tentacles in one hit, and they’re… said to control the weather, which tracks, I suppose.  But this one… is mechanical?  I’ve only ever heard of organic kraken.”

“The sheer size of this thing… to make it would take a huge amount of infrastructure and space,” Hamid remarked. 

Azu sighed.  “Do we really have to keep following this thing?”

“Yes, we do,” Zolf replied.  “I’m sorry.  But it would be one thing if it was a normal kraken that enough sailors and ships could destroy if necessary.  This, though?  This is manmade.  Person-made,” he adjusted.  Cel instilled gender-neutral vocabulary into all of their compatriots.  “If somebody made this, who knows what they might be after?  What else they might make?  What else they might try to do?  We’ve got to find them and shut these things down.  I just hope that the Weather Device thing can figure out where they’re coming from.”

Zolf stomped off, back to the helm.  Azu and Hamid cast each other a worried glance, then looked into the waves again to check on the kraken. 

Now, instead of a watching eye, there was nothing but the darkness of the abyss below them. 

Chapter Text

In order to track down the mechanical krakens and the storms that accompanied them, Hope’s Call strayed beyond its usual locales.  They rarely travelled so far from London that they couldn’t make port there if they needed to do so urgently, knowing that there would always be safe harbor.  Now, following a trail of gigantic breadcrumbs, they traversed beyond these waters and sought resupply in unfamiliar ports. 

Between the crew, they knew many languages, so conversing with dock workers wasn’t as much of a challenge as it might have been, and magic bridged the gap of comprehension when all else failed.  But in these new ports, the crew didn’t wander, didn’t explore the local pubs or restaurants.  They tended to remain with the ship, in case unfriendly sailors or outspoken and violent enemies of the meritocrats recognized them away from home, without safety close nearby. 

However, Hamid still wrote his reports and sent them back to Wilde, accompanied by whatever news Zolf also included.  Hamid’s notes were often pages in length, even during the time they didn’t see a single kraken, and Zolf’s were half a page at their longest.  The point got across either way, Hamid supposed. 

The Skraak & Sidebottom Wondrous Weather Device did as required, testing the air and water for signs of an oncoming storm and the unknown mechanism beneath the waves.  No one was quite sure yet whether or not the storms drew these krakens to them, or if the krakens caused the storms, but Zolf was adamant that they find out, lest the technology fall into the wrong hands. 

Based on the location of the krakens they’d seen and the location of anticipated storms, Cel directed Hope’s Call far to the east.  It was a long voyage.  Hamid almost missed the thrill of plundering or stopping a vicious pirate ship along the way, though he would never admit it. 

And as Hope’s Call travelled down the Suez Canal, so close to Hamid’s homeland, his heart ached.  Would his father be happy to see him if he were to stop in?  Of course they didn’t have time for such distractions, not while storms were popping up and hitting coastal cities with inescapable deluges, shutting down trade for weeks at a time.  All the same, Hamid couldn’t help but wonder.

At the end of the Canal, however, Hamid noticed a ship bearing a familiar crest on the horizon.  His boredom instantly ceased, and he raced up to the helm, snatching Grizzop’s spyglass from his hands to verify what he thought he saw.

“Hey!”  Grizzop cried. 

“I knew it,” Hamid gasped.  “That’s my family’s ship.”

“Are they also tracking the storms?  Or are they causing them?  Hm…”

“Grizzop, there’s no storm here, even the Device says it’s clear for now.  It’s more likely they’re out trading, getting goods where they need to go,” Hamid explained.  “We’re mostly bankers, but occasionally we’ll accompany trading vessels.  This is a particularly well-travelled area, you know.”

Grizzop snatched the spyglass back from Hamid.  “Hmpf.  You never know.  Better keep an eye on them.”

“Zolf?”  Hamid called, spinning around to find the captain not far away.  “I know we have a short schedule, but do you mind if we stop for a few minutes?  They’re probably just a hired crew, but they may know how my family is doing, and they could give my siblings their next letters long before the post will get to them.”

Zolf sighed, but he could see the hopeful shine in Hamid’s eyes.  “Yeah, alright.  A quick stop.”

“Thank you!  I really appreciate it, Zolf.”

At Zolf’s direction, his crew signaled the al-Tahan vessel and soon they were alongside one another, clasped together with a gangway between them.  With Zolf at his side, Hamid stepped across.

“Hamid?”

“Saira?”  He exclaimed and raced into his sister’s arms.  “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same thing!  I thought you were studying and working for the meritocratic offices in London.”

“I am,” Hamid replied, still holding onto Saira’s forearms, unwilling to let her go after so long without seeing her.  “We’re on a mission for the meritocrats right now, I guess you would say.  Thank you for getting me this job.  I know it was your influence with Apophis that meant I got it.  And I… I really am glad, and I’m really, really glad to see you.”

They embraced again, then Saira stepped back for Hamid to introduce Zolf.

“This is Captain Smith,” he said.  “And Zolf, this is my sister, Saira Hawaa Layla al Tahan.”

“Just Saira is fine,” she said with a smile as she shook Zolf’s hand.  “A pleasure to meet you.  Hamid has written about you in his letters.”

“Has he now?”  Zolf said with a faint smirk and a sideways glance at Hamid.  “It’s nice to meet a member of Hamid’s family.”

“I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble.”

“Only the appropriate amount,” Zolf joked and Saira nodded knowingly, grinning. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Hamid said, “but what are you doing here, Saira?  Since when have you been involved in the family business, especially when it comes to serving on our trading vessels?”

She sighed and the light in her features faded somewhat.  “Well, you see… Saleh was supposed to be here, but he… he hasn’t been doing well.”

“I see.”  Hamid turned to Zolf and explained, “My brother.”

Saira continued, “So, I took over for this shipment.  Obviously, I can’t leave my meritocratic duties for too long, but they gave me leave this time around.  I hope Father doesn’t think this is setting a precedent, that I’ll step in every time Saleh gets too drunk.”

Zolf at this point had wandered off to chat with a few of Saira’s crew before realizing that he didn’t speak Arabic and that many of them didn’t speak English, but he still hovered at the edge of the ship to allow Hamid and his sister some privacy. 

“I hope not,” Hamid replied.  “And I’m sorry to hear about Saleh.  Once I’m done with this mission, I do hope I’ll be able to come visit.  I’m not sure how much help I can offer, but…”

“I’m sure just having you around certainly won’t hurt.”  Saira smiled again, though the expression seemed moderately more forced than previously.  Then, her voice softened.  “I know things weren’t great with you and Father when you left last time around.”

“Yes, he… I…”  Flashes of Hamid’s many mistakes made at university raced through his head, culminating with his father’s booming voice, telling him to make something of himself or never return. 

“I just want you to know that, whatever he may think, I’m very proud of you.”

“Really?”  Hamid gasped in surprise. 

Saira nodded.  “If you’d told me when you were younger that you would be sailing around on anything less than a first class, top tier vessel, I would have laughed you out of the room.  But here you are.  And from what I hear at work, not that I go out of my way to check in on my little brother-” she smirked, “-you and your crew here are really helping things out around England.  So, yeah, of course I’m proud of you.”

With a quivering lip, Hamid pulled Saira into another tight hug, then stepped back, a little closer to the gangplank this time.  “Next time both of us have a break, we’re going to go see Aziza perform, alright?”  He suggested. 

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, and, here.”  Hamid dug around in his jacket and pulled out a handful of letters, one for each member of his family, along with some for friends in the Cairo area.  “If you can distribute these for me when you’re back, I would appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.”

“Oh!”  He exclaimed again.  “And we’ll need to talk about, uh, our ancestry at some point.”

“That’s vague and moderately unnerving.”

“It’s… not bad?  But I can’t talk about it here.  And we should probably both get going.”

Saira nodded somberly, then pulled Hamid into one last embrace.  “It was good to see you.  Now, go save the world, or whatever it is you’re up to out here.”

Back across on Hope’s Call , Hamid waved farewell to his sister and smiled to himself.  He wasn’t sure if they were saving the world, or if his father would ever be proud of him, but they were doing good , and Hamid could be proud of that if nothing else. 

Chapter Text

Months passed.  For a time, the entire crew thought their mission might be hopeless.  Maybe they really were just mundane storms after all?  Even the all-encompassing terror that gripped their bodies and coursed up their spines when they caught another glimpse of the metal kraken beneath the unruly waves did little to assuage the doubt that lingered.  They might track storms for years and never find the source of their mechanical companions.

Cel and Skraak doubled and tripled their efforts on the Wondrous Weather Device.  A map of the world took up a huge portion of the wall in their lab, each storm and kraken sighting marked upon it to try and determine situational density and if there was any pattern hidden amongst them.  Until they found a kraken, all Hope’s Call could do was keep following the darker clouds in the sky.

They followed the beeping of the Device toward Japan.  According to the readings, this storm was gigantic, larger than others they had seen. 

“Maybe we can stop by my village!”  Cel exclaimed as they told Zolf of their course.  “I lived around here for a while.  Though, given some of these storms… I just hope my little buddies are still there, I guess.”

“I’m sure they’re fine, Cel,” Hamid said with an optimistic smile that reinvigorated the spark in Cel’s eyes. 

“You’re right!  A tiny monsoon wouldn’t get those little buddies down!”

Zolf added, “We can try and check in once we see how this storm is doing, alright?”

“I would really appreciate that, Zolf.”

In the end, their path led them particularly near Cel’s old village, but the storms only got worse and more violent the closer they sailed.  Rain fell with such force that it left bruises and welts where it landed on flesh, and the winds were so vicious that the smaller in their crew had to be forcibly lashed to the ship to prevent a gust blowing them overboard.  And the lightning… it drew lines across the sky in a writhing pattern, all converging on one point, a tall tower, stark against the dark horizon.

“I mean, that’s definitely ominous,” Zolf said to himself in the midst of the storm.  “Even if not the source of our krakens, there’s no way that’s a good thing.  It just screams evildoer.”  He raised his voice now, though it was still barely louder than the howling wind.  “Lash yourself to the sides.  I’m taking her in.”

Zolf had piloted them through some tricky waters before, but the force and unending maelstroms were a new and terrifying challenge.  Despite this, Zolf led them to the island on which the tower rested with what could almost be described as ease as the waves that flew over the ship never even caused him to falter in his footing.  His fingers were white around the helm, but he did not relinquish his hold, and he guided the ship through the monsoon, through the crew’s pounding hearts and sickened stomachs, through the unseen metal tentacles that threatened to consume them from below, and into a small cave at the base of the ominous tower. 

Hamid helped Azu undo her bindings, shaking as she was when Hope’s Call entered the calm waters of the cavern.  He couldn’t deny that he was shaking too, but Azu was suffering from the sheer immensity of the storm and the suffocating depths of the waves that had threatened to engulf them. 

As he aided her, Skraak stepped up to Hamid’s side and grabbed onto his arm.

“What is it?”

“Bad place,” they replied. 

“You’ve been here before?”

They nodded, but showed no joy at their return. 

“I didn’t know, I…”  Hamid remarked, and Skraak shook their head.

“I couldn’t remember.  Still can’t.  Just… feels wrong.  Feels bad.  I don’t want to be here.”

“We have to, at least for a little while.”  Hamid tugged Skraak into a hug and held them tightly.  “I’m sorry.  And I hate to ask, but if there is anything that you remember, please let someone know.”

Skraak didn’t have eyebrows, but the ridge above their eye sockets scrunched up with thought.  “Just… bad.”

“That’s alright.  Stick with me, I’ve got you.”

“I have an idea.  May I?”  Azu interjected as she finished dumping buckets of seawater out from her armor.  Skraak nodded and allowed Azu to pick them up under the arms, draping them over her shoulders.  “This way, you can always hug tight if you need to.  And I’ll make sure nothing bad gets too close.”

In thanks, Skraak’s tail wrapped around and they clutched it tightly in their hands, forming a full circle around Azu’s head, and they huffed appreciatively. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.  This place is scary enough, even if you didn’t have bad memories of it.”

As they spoke, the rest of the crew assembled, weapons at the ready, looking to Zolf for instruction. 

“We don’t know what’s in here, but it definitely looks like the storms are congregating around this tower,” he announced.  “We go in quiet and see what there is to see before we start fighting, got it?”  Zolf then turned to Hamid.  “I need you to stay with the ship, stay with Figgis and the others.”

“Absolutely not!  What, is this because I got captured that time?  You think I can’t handle myself?  Even after everything?”  Hamid shook his head.  “I thought you trusted me.”

Zolf let out a heavy breath.  “I do trust you, Hamid.  But if somebody shows up while we’re gone… I thought… I’m trying to…”  He sighed when words and arguments failed him.  “Fine.  Just try not to get hurt, okay?”

“Likewise.”

The cave was pitch black save for the dancing lights Hamid sent up into the air.  The crew followed the docks and paths until they found themselves inside the island, walking through hallways crafted not by the elements, but by mortal hands.  Sasha slipped ahead of them, disappearing almost entirely in the shadows, to check for movement ahead or traps that might hinder their progress.  But there was nothing. 

The tower seemed abandoned.  Thunder echoed through the halls and raindrops thudded against the windows in a ceaseless rhythm. 

“Up or down?”  Zolf asked his crew as they reached a stairwell with an empty space in the center.  It stretched out of sight in both directions. 

Before anyone else could posit a suggestion, Skraak spoke up.  “Down.  We take the elevator all the way down.”

Chapter Text

The elevator shook and clattered beneath their feet, all seven of them crammed together in the small space.  Skraak tightened their hold on Azu’s shoulder guards as they descended, flickering lights from the coterie of enchanted weapons dancing on the stark walls around them. 

With a great, shuddering heave, the elevator stopped, and the doors clanked open. 

“I guess this is our stop,” Zolf remarked, and Grizzop promptly burst past everyone. 

“That took ages .”

“Just imagine if we’d had to climb down the whole thing,” Cel said with a teasing smirk.  “It probably would have taken hours.”

Grizzop shivered at the very thought. 

Zolf interrupted the banter and turned to Sasha.  “You want to scout out ahead?”

She was already gone around the corner, a faint flash of movement the only sign that she’d ever been there at all.  A few moments later, she returned. 

“There’s more Skraaks up there,” she announced.

“More kobolds?”  Zolf asked. 

Meanwhile, Skraak perked up, eyes wide as they perched atop Azu.  “Can you put me down?” 

Azu obliged, lifting Skraak from her shoulders and setting them onto the ground.  They leaned up on the edge of their claws, listening and squinting as they tried to remember.

Before the memories could return, however, a mechanical squeal sounded and a voice echoed throughout the entire room. 

“Hello, intruders,” it said in Japanese.  “I bet you think you’re clever, getting all the way here.”

Cel began to translate for the rest of the group as Skraak dashed to the closest person they could find, which happened to be Hamid, and gripped his arm with desperation, claws piercing skin. 

“What is it?  Do you know that voice?”

They nodded furiously, glassy tears shimmering in their eyes. 

“Bad.  Bad man.  Very bad man.  Bad.  Very bad.”  Skraak stuttered and trembled with terror. 

“Your efforts will be in vain!”  The voice continued, almost cartoonishly villainous in tone.  “No one can defeat me!  And even if you could, which you can’t, I just said that, I will live on forever!”

“Does this person ever shut up?”  Grizzop asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Even if they aren’t involved in the storm nonsense, I think I’d want to kill them anyway,” Zolf added grumbly. 

After more rambling, which Grizzop and Zolf complained over, the voice stopped and a click indicated that the speakers were no longer working, for the time being. 

“Oh, I think I know him!”  Cel cried, a scowl on their face.  “Yoshida Shoin!  Yeah, he was a pretty decent alchemist when I met him, but then he kind of went ehhh .  Bit weird.  The last I saw of him was several years ago, before I left Japan and met up with the rest of you.  Hm.  Sounds like he’s gone a bit more weird than before.”

“Do you think he could possibly be connected to the krakens and the storms?”  Zolf queried.

“Oh, for sure.  That sounds right up his alley.”

“Alright!  Let’s go pay this Shoin a visit.  Probably with lots of sharp pointy things.”

“What do we do about the Skraaks?”  Sasha asked, gesturing to the hallway ahead of them, down which were presumably more kobolds.

The fear in Skraak’s form faded and they stood as tall as their stature would allow them, then croaked, “Allow me.”

Alone, they marched forward, with the crew creeping behind them cautiously, to reach the other kobolds.  Three stood watch over a corridor, syringe spears in their hands, goggles over their eyes, and they turned to face Skraak when they heard them enter, weapons outstretched. 

Skraak began to speak to them in Draconic, and Hamid and Cel summarized for their listening companions.

“They’re saying that… they used to be here too.  They’re starting to remember,” Hamid relayed.  “That they remember the torture.  The cages, the tubes, the lines running into the arms and pumping them full of bright, burning, fluorescent liquid.  They remember not remembering.  And they remember Shoin.

“There’s a world outside of this, outside of the pain.  And they can come with Skraak, make their own home, their own… crew .  But first, they have to make sure Shoin can’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

Everyone cast sad glances at their friends, and continued to watch to see how the other kobolds would respond to Skraak’s request.  After more persuading, they lowered their spears and nodded. 

Skraak returned to their crew.  “They’ll help.”

“That’s great, little buddy, thank you!”  Cel said with a wide smile.  “I knew you should be the spokesdragon for Skraak & Sidebottom.”

“We can follow them.  Shortcut to Shoin.”

The newly allied kobolds stepped up to the far wall, perpendicular to both exits of the room, and used a strange looking wrench to open a passage.  It would be a tight squeeze for Azu, but not impossible.  Hopefully.

Those kobolds then gestured for Skraak’s crew to follow them through the newly revealed tunnel system, one by one pressing into the space.  Azu shuddered at the thought, but Grizzop and Sasha each squeezed a hand in gentle reassurance and helped her take off as much armor as feasible, carrying those bits themselves to make Azu’s traverse a bit less cramped. 

While they waited their turn, Hamid turned to Skraak and spoke in Draconic.

“I had no idea what happened to you here.  I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t know either,” Skraak admitted.  “Not until we got here.  I only had… flashes.  Not sure how I got away, if it was an escape or an accident.  Now I remember more, but still not all of it.  Enough, though.”

Hamid couldn’t help but follow Skraak’s gaze as they ran a claw gently along their arm.  Several scars interspersed the scales, darker spots amongst the red of Skraak’s skin, where they had been poked and prodded and injected with who knows what over the course of their incarceration. 

“If I’d known we would be taking you back to the place that did this to you, I…”

Skraak’s arm fell to their side.  “No.  This place didn’t do this to me.  Shoin did.  And we can make sure he doesn’t do it ever again.  No more storms.  No more pain.”

The tunnel ahead was clear enough for another person to enter, and Skraak stepped forward and slipped inside without another word.  Hamid watched them go, silently vowing that he would do all in his power to make sure that Skraak never suffered in that way again.   

Chapter Text

The tunnel was a tight squeeze for the larger in their number, but the kobolds, Grizzop, and Hamid made quick work of it.  The group wove through a few other rooms, gathering more kobolds along the way with the encouraging words of Skraak, following their lead, and opening more gateways to pass by rooms designed to stop them in their tracks. 

“No, wait, what are you doing?”  The voice clicked on over the speakers.  “You’re supposed to go through the rooms.  Why are you harassing my kobolds?  Go into the rooms!  They’re full of lovely fun traps!  That will allow you to prove yourself worthy of meeting my greatness!”

“Don’t suppose we can break those?”  Zolf asked as he crawled out of another vent, gesturing to the speakers. 

“Should be close now,” Skraak said. 

“Well, that’s something at least.”

They emerged from the last tunnel into an enormous room.  A dining table took up most of the space, and what appeared to be a pipe organ sat at the far end. 

“I want to touch it,” Cel muttered once they saw the alchemical symbols that decorated the keys of the organ.

“Cel, I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Azu added, tugging on their sleeve. 

“ Fine .”

“So… where’s this Shoin fellow?”  Zolf asked, then yelled to the empty room, “Ding dong, we’re here!  Now, do you want to stop releasing krakens on the world and causing a bunch of really damaging storms, or are we going to have to kill you?”

Another speaker turned on, using English this time.  “Ohh, here about my krakens, are we?  They will hold the world for ransom!”

“I mean, nobody knows who you are, you didn’t ask for a ransom.”

“Why else are you here?”

Sasha leaned in toward Zolf and whispered.  “He kind of has a good point, boss.  We are here to get him to stop sending krakens out.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” he replied to Sasha, then spoke more loudly again to address Shoin.  “Point remains: stop sending out krakens, or we’ll stop them for you.”

“You cannot defeat me!”

“This is productive,” Zolf sighed.  “What do the rest of you think?  Sasha, can you scope out the room, see if he’s hiding in here somewhere?”

“We track him down and kill him, obviously,” Grizzop said in response to Zolf’s first question.  “Shut down the kraken systems and boom!  No more storms.”

“What do we do with the equipment he’s been using?”

“Hand it over to Wilde, surely,” Azu suggested.  “And Shoin, if we can take him alive.”

Zolf scowled.  “I’m not sure anyone should have that access, honestly.”

“I thought you trusted Wilde?”

“I do.  But that doesn’t mean I trust the dragons he works for.  Causing storms?  That sort of technology could be used in such horrible, manipulative ways against any enemy, perceived or otherwise.”

“Well, I think we should study all of his stuff here and make it better, because I can definitely make it better.”  Cel stood to the side, flipping through the pages of a journal.  They held up a schematic with a disdainful look.  “Look at this!  This is just shameful.”

“And Shoin?  Keep him alive or kill him?”

“Uhh, boss?” 

“What is it, Sasha?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about any of that anymore.”

The whole crew turned to face what used to be the pipe organ.  The assembled kobolds had taken to it with wrenches and their spears, prying it apart into the smallest pieces they could muster while Shoin cried out over the speakers, telling them to stop in Japanese, words that went unheeded. 

“I think that thing is Shoin.”

“I think that’s probably for the best,” Hamid admitted.  “The kobolds suffered the most at his hand.  Let them decide what to do with him.”

“I don’t think the dilemma was quite so difficult for them,” Zolf added, watching with his crewmates as the kobolds disassembled pipes, spraying a bright liquid all over the floor.  They worked with a mechanical swiftness, only occasionally letting out a grunt of exertion, but never of rage or vengeance, even after everything they had been through.

“I suppose that settles that,” Sasha remarked as the kobolds picked apart the final pieces of the pipe organ at the end of the room. 

“Does that mean the krakens are all taken care of?”  Grizzop asked. 

Skraak and the other kobolds stepped back to the group, jaws set and eyes furrowed with revenge.  “Not sure,” Skraak replied.  “We need to go up.”

“Up?”

“Shut off the electricity.”

Zolf shrugged affirmatively.  “Alright, let’s head on up then, I guess.  Cel, feel free to take whatever gizmos you want.”

Cel’s arms were already full of mechanical odds and ends and they simply smiled at Zolf’s words.

“Will the lift take us where we need to go?”

Before Skraak could answer, the telltale click of the speaker echoed throughout the hall. 

“Did you really think that I would be so foolish as to hide myself there?”  Shoin let out a cackle that flickered with static.  “If you really seek to face me, then you’re in the wrong spot.  That’s a nice ship you have docked at my island, though I doubt it could stand up to the force of a true feat of mechanical genius such as that which reigns supreme over the world, where my true form resides upon the waves!  And, as you’ve turned my minions against me and you’ve destroyed this meager aspect of my form… I suppose I have no more need of this place.”

A loud crash sounded from above and the floor shuddered under their feet as Shoin laughed again, and the speaker clicked out. 

“He’s destroying the tower!”  Cel exclaimed, a few bits of loot falling from their arms with the violent shaking of the building.

“Or at least this part of it,” Grizzop replied.  “He’ll probably keep the bits he needs to run his krakens.”

Skraak turned to the other kobolds and spoke quickly, then they all nodded. 

“We’ll take care of the electricity,” they said. 

“But if this place starts to fall apart…” Hamid’s lip quivered slightly.

“There’s a lightning rod.  Might stay intact even if the tower crumbles.  Need to destroy it to stop the krakens.  To stop Shoin,” Skraak explained.  “We can take care of that.  You lot take care of the Shoin kraken, we’ll make sure there’s no way he can pull any funny business.”

Another shudder as the floor shifted more violently this time.  Hamid knew that Skraak and the kobolds' task needed to be done, to guarantee that if they destroyed the kraken in which Shoin’s aspect resided, he had no way of escaping, or that if he had other tricks they couldn’t run amuck even without him.  So, acknowledging the necessity of the situation and the sureness in Skraak’s gaze, Hamid embraced them. 

“Alright, let’s get back to the lift,” Zolf commanded his crew.  “We’ll go up first, get in Hope’s Call and distract whatever kraken nonsense Shoin has waiting for us out there.  Then, you kobolds head where you need to and knock out the electricity.  Good?”

Skraak nodded at Zolf when Hamid released his grip, and for a moment there was a look of solidarity between captain and kobold.  Zolf gave Skraak a quick nod, a show of respect, and then the group began to swiftly race back through the now deactivated trap rooms. 

Hamid piled into the lift alongside his friends and watched Skraak and the kobolds disappear from sight as they clattered upwards. 

“Stay safe,” he called. 

“Look after yourselves, little buddies,” Skraak replied, a faint smile on their dragon lips, and then they faded from sight. 

Chapter Text

The elevator heaved with exertion as it reached the ground floor and opened to allow the crew off.  Save for a few ominous booms and cracks, the structural damage wasn’t bad until they neared the cave where their ship was docked, and then the corridors began to collapse around them. 

“I don’t move fast,” Zolf said sternly as they all began to run for it.  “Just leave me, take the ship, and get out.  Grizzop and Azu, you can sort out who’s captain, alright?”

Azu shook her head, and Sasha put a hand on Zolf’s shoulder, before she stopped and knelt in front of him, hefting him onto her back so that they could keep up with the rest of the group. 

With that, Cel and Grizzop sprinted ahead, dodging falling rubble with ease, with Sasha, Azu, and Hamid bringing up the rear while Zolf was along for the ride.  Despite his seemingly cavalier attitude that they leave him behind, he clung desperately to Sasha’s shoulders and didn’t protest. 

Once aboard the ship, they assumed battle stations immediately.  They pushed Hope’s Call out from the cave falling around them and into waves that were choppier than when they entered.  A mechanical tentacle broke the water a small distance away, as if a warning that they had one last chance to leave well enough alone. 

Naturally, such a request couldn’t be acknowledged.  Cannons fired at the tendril, but it instantly dashed beneath the water and the projectiles flew off into the fog and rain. 

This time, when the next tentacle appeared, there was no hesitation on Shoin’s part.  It rose up beside the ship, extending into the sky for hundreds of feet.  This time, when the cannonballs flew, they thudded and exploded into the metal, but Shoin didn’t show any sign of injury.  For extra measure, Grizzop fired arrows at it, even as it fell down and aimed to crush Hope’s Call beneath its immense weight. 

At the helm, Zolf maneuvered the ship away from the crash, but the impact on the waves sent them rocketing sideways regardless of his sailing prowess.  A scorching ray misfired and would have caught the mast alight if it weren’t for the downpour and one of Cel’s upgrades to the wood that made it significantly more fireproof.  Meanwhile, Sasha still stood in the crow’s nest despite the massive heaving and swaying of the ship, barely even bothered by the violent motion. 

“How do we fight something this big?”  Hamid cried over the din of the storm. 

Azu glanced over from where she lashed together a broken bit of rigging with nothing but rope and brute force.  “I… don’t know.”

“Easy,” Grizzop replied as he nocked another arrow.  “We hit it until it stops moving.  Same as anything.”

“I’m not sure that strategy is viable long term,” Hamid remarked, and Grizzop shrugged. 

“Well, until you come up with a better idea, get another round of spells ready, because here it comes!”

This time, four tentacles rose up, two on each side of Hope’s Call , threatening to capsize the whole ship with the force of them.  But they were closer now, and Sasha leapt from the crow’s nest with glowing daggers extended, landing atop a metal appendage and stabbing into it with magic and adamantine.  Azu hefted her great axe and chopped at another tentacle, and a spray of shimmering liquid spurted out from the wound.  Bolts and arrows from Cel and Grizzop thudded into another arm, while Hamid’s spells attempted to break the surface of the last tentacle, but fire seemed little use against the metal. 

In the end, the injuries inflicted by the rest of the crew were enough for two of the tentacles to recede into the water without attacking the ship, with Sasha only barely managing to jump back to the deck before her tentacle disappeared into the depths.  But the two remaining tentacles stayed the course and thudded their entire weight down onto Hope’s Call , dragging it down, down, down. 

“You should have known better than to face me, the mighty Yoshida Shoin!”  This time, the voice sounded all around them, echoing on the wind, as it roared from the heart of the kraken itself.  More tentacles rose from the water and began to encircle the ship, the crew motionless, watching in terror as the sky disappeared behind the kraken’s embrace. 

“Can’t believe we’re going to die listening to this ass yammering about how great he is,” Zolf grumbled from the helm. 

Ever the narcissist, the head of the squid appeared at the side of the deck, an enormous eye staring at the crew and threatening to drown them in the sheer size of it.  The waves would be a simpler death, than to fall into the mechanical whirring parts of the eye that glared at them. 

“You fools!”

Though fatal fear coursed through their veins, the crew of Hope’s Call wasn’t finished yet.  Without a word to coordinate them, they all attacked the eye with whatever weapons they still possessed.  Arrows, daggers, axes, potions, spells, and glaives thudded into the mechanism and ground it to a halt. 

And in the midst of the battle, Hamid felt the world go still around him.  He watched as his friends, his new family, used their final breaths to destroy an enemy that threatened the whole world.  And he knew he would give anything to save them from falling prey to their seemingly inevitable fate.

He screamed at the eye, mumbled words telling Shoin that he would never take them, and fire burst from his mouth, an inferno of rage and desperation. 

With that, the metal pieces of the eye fell out of place and the tentacles holding onto the ship began to twitch.  They still almost pulled Hope’s Call down as the entire kraken began to fall into the depths of death, but those moments allowed Grizzop enough time to launch himself into the eye hole and retrieve an orb.

As soon as the orb was removed, Shoin and his kraken was no more, and it relinquished its hold of the ship, then disappeared below the waves. 

For a few moments, the crew simply glanced at each other, drenched and covered in the liquid that had once coursed through the machine’s veins.  And then, they smiled and cheered.  Mimicking their joy, the sky almost instantaneously cleared above them.  The clouds vanished and the sun shone down on those who survived against all odds. 

“The kobolds must have gotten the electricity down,” Hamid remarked, looking up at the sky. 

“As if that was in doubt,” Cel said as they stepped up to his side.  Then, they turned to Grizzop.  “What is that orb thingy, anyway?”

“Don’t know,” he answered with a shrug.  “Looked important.  So I grabbed it.”

“May I?”

Grizzop hesitated, but then passed the ball to Cel so that they could look it over. 

“I think… this might be a brain ball.  Orb?  A brain orb?  A borb!”  Cel exclaimed.  “I’ll have to do some more tests, but I designed something like this when I was considering uploading my own brain into a mechanical construct, though mine would have been way better than all this nonsense-” They gestured around them.  “ Basically , I think this is Shoin.  Or whatever’s left of him.”

“What do we do with him?  It?”

“Give it to Wilde, I guess,” Zolf replied as he descended the steps to join his crew.  “That’s his problem now.  We did our job.”

“I think we deserve a raise after all that,” Sasha said, only half joking.

“But first, we have to go pick up the kobolds!”  Hamid exclaimed, and Zolf sighed, even though there was the faintest upturn at the corner of his lips. 

Without rocky waves and dangerous currents, it was an easy task for Zolf to guide Hope’s Call into what remained of the cave they’d previously used as shelter.  Standing there on the stone was Skraak and a handful of kobolds, more than previously, some decked out in lab coats. 

“You did it!”

Everyone aboard the crew embraced Skraak as they climbed the gangway up to the deck, even Zolf, who gave them a quick hug and a pat on the back.  The other kobolds hesitantly boarded and stood off to the side, awaiting direction now that their cruel master was defeated. 

“So… where to now?”  Azu asked.  “We have a half-destroyed evil lair in Japan, a dead mechanical kraken, a borb, and a dozen kobolds.”

Cel raced to the helm.  “I know where we can go!  My old village!  It’s not far!”  They beamed and grinned, and there was no way anyone could say no to their exuberance. 

“We’ll need to get in touch with Wilde, somehow, but for right now… yeah.  Let’s head there,” Zolf acquiesced.  “Point it out on the map, Cel, and we’ll make for your village.  Might need to row, given that we don’t seem to be in the best shape-” he added, as another piece of wood ominously cracked out of place.  “But it’s as good as anywhere.”

Cel squealed in excitement.  “I can’t wait!”

Chapter Text

The sun was shining in Cel’s old village for the first time in years.  Needless to say, after swarms of raiders attacking their land, the gnome inhabitants were a bit worried as an unknown ship docked nearby and strangers marched toward them.

But once they saw Cel at the head of the posse, the gnomes could only celebrate.  Not only had the weather cleared, the storms gone away, but Cel had returned to them!

Before they had left to travel the world and got mixed up with Zolf and his crew, Cel had apparently left behind a series of contraptions and weapons that allowed the gnomes to fend off the bandits Shoin sent after them, but they were starting to rust in the constant rain.  Now, though, with Shoin a forgotten borb and the sun shining down, they didn’t need to worry about that anymore.  Instead, they could focus on setting up an impromptu fete to celebrate. 

“What do I do?”

“Just throw the ball at the coconut and try to knock it off the stick.  What, you’ve never seen a coconut shy before?”  Zolf laughed.

“No, I haven’t!”  Hamid pouted, but took the instruction and launched the ball at the coconut.  He missed completely. 

“Not a completely terrible throw?”

“Your conviction is really reassuring, you know that?”

Skraak sidled up in between them. 

“Hey, Skraak!  Want to try a throw?”  Hamid asked, half hoping to shift the attention from his own poor performance. 

They shook their head.  “I remember more now.  There are other kobolds out there.  In cages.  Locked up.  Hurt.  Some of the others want to go back and free them.”

“Yes, of course.”

“We should get word to Wilde, still,” Zolf remarked.  “He can get in touch with some meritocratic types here and find a place for all these kobolds, try and help them get settled.”

Skraak nodded.  “A few others would like to stay here.”

The trio glanced over at a kobold attempting to play a saxophone lent to them by one of the gnomish musicians when they showed an interest.  It wasn’t going well, but not for lack of trying. 

“As long as the villagers are okay with that.”  Hamid paused.  “Do you… want to stay with them?  With the other kobolds?  I know that you got separated, however you ended up in London, but… you can go be with your other friends now.”

With a smile, Skraak looked up at Hamid.  “I am with my friends.  I want to stay with you.”

Hamid couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.  “I’m glad to hear it.  Besides, I think it would have broken Cel’s heart to call it quits on Skraak & Sidebottom.”

“You know, Skraak,” Zolf interjected awkwardly, “I’ve never been that nice to you.  But… you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I guess you are too.”

Hamid hid his surprised smile behind a hand and glanced between Zolf and Skraak to see if this new amicability would fade with snark, now that the adrenaline of their victory was replaced by a new normalcy.  Instead, Zolf burst into a grin and held out a hand for Skraak to shake, which they did. 

After two days of partying, the fete died down and the villagers started to get back to their lives, lives that had been put on hold for years due to the storms and raids.  The gnomes were loath to let Cel leave them again, and they wanted to stay longer as well, but there was still work to be done. 

The crew headed back to Hope’s Call with fresh supplies and significantly fewer kobolds in order to head toward the mainland and a larger port, where they could get repairs and send word to Wilde, to make sure that all of Shoin’s krakens and other technology didn’t fall into the wrong hands and that the remaining kobolds were safe. 

Once that was done… the horizon was theirs. 

Sailing back across the ocean, planning to eventually return to London, though with innumerable unscheduled stops along the way, the weather was clear and the sails were full.

“So, Captain, where to next?”