The gentle sway of the Roaring Axe accompanied the captain of the ship like a mother's lullaby. Inside the captain's cabin, Blake sat at the large oak table.
The Roaring Axe, or better yet its na, had once been his father's vessel, a symbol of power and pride in the days when his father commanded the respect of ten ships. Now, it was Blake's flagship's na , a legacy he carried both proudly and heavily as a way to honor him.
Across from Blake sat Kroll, his long-ti friend, leaning back in his chair with an easy air. Between them on the table were two empty cups, their polished tal gleaming faintly in the lantern light. Blake had invited Kroll aboard earlier that day, the rare lull in the chaos of leadership offering them a chance to reminisce.
Before the breaking of the Treaty of Seabreak, a fragile pact with the Imperials which limited pirate activity outside what the Rolians regarded as their seas, that now layd in tatters, the two had seen little of each other. Both had been preoccupied with their own pursuits—Kroll raiding far to the west while Blake cented his position as captain of his personal fleet. The demands of their lives had kept them apart, but now, with the fleet preparing to scatter once more under Blake's orders, the opportunity to share a mont presented itself.
The air in the cabin was warm and thick with the scent of salt and old wood. "This feels like old tis," Kroll said, his voice rich with nostalgia, though his tone held an edge of weariness.
Blake nodded.
"Aye," Blake said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's been too long since we've sat across a table like this."
The cabin door creaked open, and Blake's slave entered gracefully, a slender jug of golden apple cider balanced expertly in her hands. The cider, fresh and fragrant, was a rare luxury that spoke of Blake's growing influence. She moved to the table, pouring the cider into the waiting cups without a word. The rich, sweet aroma of the drink filled the room, a welco contrast to the sea-salt tang that perated the air. Kroll leaned forward slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes as the golden liquid filled his cup.
Taking a sip, Kroll's eyes widened in surprise, the sweet yet sharp tang of the cider hitting his palate. "Now, this," he said with a grin, "must be an occasion worth marking." His rough hand set the cup down, but his expression held genuine delight.
Blake gave a curt nod, a faint smile playing on his lips as he swirled the cider in his own cup. Kroll took another sip before shaking his head in amazent. "I'll be damned. First ti I've tasted the wonders of Yarzat."
Blake chuckled softly, the sound deep and knowing. "I rember when Yarzat was just a backwater princedom," he said, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "Yet now, it's on the lips of everyone—pirates, lords, and even emperors. Who would've thought that little corner of nowhere would make sothing so sought after?"
Kroll leaned back in his chair, watching Blake carefully. "You've got that look in your eye," he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're thinking of leading a force into Yarzat's capital, aren't you? Seeing what their little princess has accumulated with her cider and trade?"
Blake smirked, the expression betraying nothing. "The thought's crossed my mind," he admitted, his tone light yet layered with intention ''I think I can convince so captains to follow behind, after all greed is a common trait for us...''
Kroll's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I've heard stories about her husband," he said, his voice low and pointed. "A warmongering prince, they call him. In just one short year, he's led three battles—and won every one of them. He doesn't seem the type to sit idly by while you siege his city."
Blake's fingers tapped the rim of his cup, his gaze distant as he mulled over the warning. "I'd think twice about it," Kroll continued. "You might find your force surrounded before you've even breached their walls, and It would pain to see our little heroes dies in one of his ventures."
Blake humd softly, the sound thoughtful but noncommittal. He took a slow sip of the cider, his eyes fixed on the map sprawled across the table as Kroll watched him in silence.
Kroll took another sip of cider, savoring the drink as he leaned back in his chair. "Tell ," he said, raising an eyebrow, "how in the depths did you even get your hands on this? rchants don't co sniffing around these waters unless they've got a death wish or unless they are affiliated with us...."
Blake let out a low chuckle, swirling the golden liquid in his cup. "You're not wrong," he admitted, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn't buy it, if that's what you're wondering. Took it off a rchant vessel. They were creeping through these seas—likely heading toward Rolian lands to sell it, it is very well liked there...."
Kroll tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his sharp gaze. "Huh well that can be said everywhere . I thought Yarzat traded over land. They're neighbors with the empire, aren't they? Bastards managed to find a way to grace themselves with them."
"They are," Blake said with a shrug, "and the Imperials have their claws sunk deep into that market which they gladly given up. Practically a monopoly, over their own market obviously " He leaned forward slightly, the edge of a conspiratorial grin on his face. "But you know how it is. So n don't like playing by the rules. Greed makes them... inventive, for five soaps and bottles of ciders that the imperial family sell, two of both get in through black trade."
Kroll chuckled, shaking his head. "Inventive enough to cross these waters? That's bold. Or stupid. Why not stick to land? Seems a lot safer, sure there may be brigands, but I bet they are safer than us..."
Blake tapped the rim of his cup with his finger, his grin widening. "Oh, they'd love to. But here's the thing—the Imperials don't just guard their coin; they worship it. Anyone caught sneaking goods around their little empire without a docunt issued by the court allowing them to trade such wonders gets more than a fine. They get 'requisitioned'—and by that, I an robbed blind and executed before they can say a prayer to their gods."
Kroll's eyes narrowed in amusent. "Petty bastards."
Blake nodded, his voice carrying a dry humor. "Petty doesn't even cover it. So, what's a greedy man to do? He can't take the goods through land without losing his head. That leaves the sea. They load up a ship, pick a nice little port where the commander's got a weakness for bribes, and pray they don't et anyone like us along the way.If they manage to get in they can sell their products at three tis the prince that the little emperor does, after all the demand is huge by the offer little"
Kroll let out a bark of laughter. "So, let get this straight—so poor sap risked his neck, got past Imperial land patrols, bribed so greasy port officer, and thought he was ho free... only to end up floating in our waters with his hold emptied by you?"
Blake raised his cup in a mock toast, the smirk on his face sharp and wolfish. "Exactly well he is not really floating , I think so sharks must have made a snack out of him . Anyway, they gamble that the silver's worth their heads. And sotis, they lose the bet, sotis they win, the money must certainly be good to make them have such ventures."
Kroll laughed harder, slapping the table. "And here I thought this cider tasted sweet on its own. It's even better with a story like that."
Blake joined in the laughter.
Blake leaned back in his chair, the flickering lantern casting shadows across his face. He stared at Kroll over the rim of his cup, the corners of his mouth curling into a sly grin. "What do you say, Kroll? Once we've sent the Imperials packing, why don't we put our ships together and pay Yarzat a little visit? Quick raid—nothing grand. Perhaps we get lucky."
Kroll raised an eyebrow, his lips pulling into a faint smirk, though his tone was tinged with concern. "Blake, you know I care about you. You're my brother in everything but blood. So, as your friend, let say this—don't."
Blake blinked, surprised at the bluntness. "Don't?"
Kroll nodded, setting his cup down with a heavy clink. "I an it. That Young rcenary Prince—he's not just so pampered lordling playing soldier. The man keeps an army raised at all tis, which isn't cheap, but it seems Yarzat's profits can more than afford it."
Blake waved a dismissive hand. "Armies don't an much if they're too slow to react. We wouldn't be there to fight a war, just to take what we can and leave."
Kroll shook his head, his expression grave. "You think you can get in and out before he even notices? You'd be gambling against a man who's made his fortune leading others to ruin. They say in one short year, he's fought three battles and won every single one of them. Personally led the army each ti. I wouldn't be surprised if he's itching for soone to make a mistake, just to prove a point."
Blake's grin faltered slightly, but he didn't answer, rely taking another sip of his cider.
Kroll leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "You think you'll put an army ashore, take the city, and be gone before he gathers his forces? How much ti do you think you have before his thousands n will go and protect their prince? To anyone that went against him,he didn't just beat them; he made sure they were rembered as fools."
Blake humd thoughtfully, his fingers tapping against the table. "I hear your warning, Kroll. But Fortune favors the bold, doesn't it?"
Kroll gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "Fortune may favor the bold, my friend, but it doesn't favor the reckless. If you try this, you might just find out what those lords felt like smashing against a mountain."
Blake sat in silence for a mont, his eyes fixed on the swirling liquid in his cup. He didn't respond imdiately, but Kroll could see the flicker of determination still burning in his gaze. Kroll sighed, knowing that once Blake got an idea in his head, it wasn't easily dislodged, still he hoped he did.
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