Lucas watched as the well-trained crew prepared to assault the small ship that was growing ever closer. It only took three or four minutes to close the distance that would have taken another two or three hours without that spectacular shot. As soon as the larger pirate ship came into range the crew tossed out grapples and tied them off. Unlike in the stories, none of the pirates swung from the rigging to cross the gap between ships. They waited in good order for their meal to come to them, obedient sea dogs who knew their business.

The crew of the caravel was not so well disciplined. There was obvious panic and many of the crew fired their bows randomly towards the pirates while others ran around the ship attempting to cut it free. As the arrows came close to the pirate ship, they obviously slowed down and fell harmlessly in the water. A defense designed to slow down enemy large guns made short work of the flimsy arrows.

The smaller ship’s crew was inevitably unsuccessful in freeing it from the deadly embrace of the pirate ship. The enchanted ropes refused to cut, and the magical grapples bit deep into the wood of the hull. As the two ships came together, the pirate crew, led by Lucasi and his rapier, leapt down onto the deck of the caravel. Lucas watched as the pirate crew split into small five man teams and began destroying the unorganized, panicky crew of the caravel. There were small pockets of organized resistance. Lucas rode along with the pirate captain as he stepped towards a large man wielding an axe. The axe was almost a meter and a half long and the head was disproportionately large. The man wielding it stood head and shoulders over all of the other men on the crew.

As soon as Captain Lucasi came within range of the large axe, the wicked blade seemed to fill his field of vision. Before Lucas even knew what had happened, they had dodged under the axe and stepped in and to the giant’s left. A swift strike of the rapier and first blood belonged to Lucasi. The giant didn’t seem to even notice that he had been struck, and the axe was quickly brought back towards Captain Lucasi’s left side in an attempt to end the pirate quickly. Lucas focused on the feeling this time as Captain Lucasi used [Dodge] to avoid the deadly weapon and could sense that he was very close to understanding something significant about the skill. Lucas had access to all of his host’s senses on these dream excursions with the exception of being able to see the status windows.

The battle between Captain Lucasi and the giant axe wielding barbarian became a deadly trial of agility versus strength. Both crews maintained a wide space around the opponents and neither side interfered out of an unspoken rule. These might be the bitterest of enemies, but there were some traditions that no sailor would eschew. The [Bard] watched, trying to burn every feint and dodge into memory so that he could write a song that would last through the centuries and maybe get him beyond his current bottleneck.

Every time his host would dodge out of the way or attack with his rapier Lucas would focus on the sensation. He would try to remember exactly how the captain would move and how he would tense. Slowly and gradually Lucas began to get a feel for the captain’s flamboyant style of fighting and could just barely sense the captain’s mana circling throughout his body when he would use his skills.

The barbarian was growing noticeably slower and his rage radiated from him in almost palpable waves. “Stand and fight like a man, you worthless coward!” he yelled to the pirate captain.

Lucasi didn’t respond, instead focusing on keeping his balance as he dodged yet another full strength swing of the large axe. Only, this time, the swing didn’t continue past Lucasi. Instead, it seemed to stop mid-air immediately after Lucasi dodged. This was obviously a skill as the axe defied all the laws of physics. The axe then made a swift downward strike, far faster than it had any right to, towards the pirate’s partially extended right leg. Lucasi was caught off balance as he was preparing to strike out at the barbarian again after the dodge. Lucas was focused on the flow of mana and the play of muscle on bone so he clearly felt when Lucasi used a powerful skill to leap the descending axe using just his left leg. It was like every ounce of energy in the pirate captain was focused and compressed in a specific pattern to allow the man to shoot into the air like his leg was a spring.

The barbarian didn’t have time to react to the sudden loss of his target and, instead of cleaving the infuriating swashbuckler’s leg off, he drove his axe deep into the deck of the ship. Unable to free the axe, the barbarian lost one precious second. Unfortunately for him, that was all the time that Lucasi needed. The pirate struck, quick as a snake, and the rapier drove deep into the barbarian’s neck. The man wasn’t beheaded, in fact, the wound was barely any larger than any other wound the man had taken during the short but brutal fight. The strike was deadly none the less with its precise placement. As soon as the rapier cleared the barbarian’s neck bright red blood squirted from the wound, shooting almost three meters away to hit another pirate combatant in the back. Red frothy blood could be seen with every exhalation as the inside of the man’s trachea was exposed to air.. With every beat of the barbarian’s already weakening heart, more and more of his lifeblood shot out. The man tried to cover the wound, but it was too late.

With the fatal wound, all of the fight seemed to leave the defending crew. First one at a time then in small groups, the crew began to throw down their arms. After a few seconds of this a voice called out, “Mercy! Mercy! We surrender!”

The ranks of the defeated crew spread and the captain of the smaller ship stepped forward. “I’ll give my parole if you spare the rest of my crew, great captain,” said the small, bespectacled man that stepped forward. He had a tricorn hat on, an affectation of the Republic of Nicipe, and wore a thick coat that couldn’t have been comfortably in the tropical weather.

“I’ll accept your parole, captain, on the condition that you turn over the priest of thresh, any of his party, and willingly transfer ownership over any magically sealed documents or items currently aboard,” replied Lucasi.

“I can not willingly give men to you to be slaughtered like animals,” replied the smaller man.

“If you don’t cooperate fully, I’ll slaughter every person on board and put your ship to the bottom of the see as an offering to the reef spirit,” said Lucasi.

The captain of the caravel hung his head. “Do as you will,” he said. “I’ll not consign my crew to death for the priest. He’s in the first mate’s quarters. He cast some sort of spell on the door as soon as our mainmast was destroyed.” There was no fight left in the poor captain of the defeated caravel. A smuggler hunter who survived in these pirate infested waters due to his shallow draft and ability to escape into the reefs, he knew that his neck was headed for the noose as soon as his main sail came down. The last thing he could do for his men was ensure that they lived, even if only as slaves.

“Mr. Smee,” called out Captain Lucasi, “take your breaker boys and get me a [High Priest] of Thresh.”

There was no response to his words for a moment until one of the pirate crew stepped forward. “Sorry, cap’n. Mr. Smee took a belaying pin to the head. Weren’t nothin left of his brains in his head.”

“Damn shame, that, Mr. Smee's been with me for half a decade now and was one of the best damn navigators sailing these seas” replied Captain Lucasi, “Second mate Gibson, would you like the position of first mate?”

“Aye, cap’n,” said Gibson, “Reckon I been with ya’ this long, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Good man, you are officially promoted to [First Mate],” Lucasi said, “stand the men a round of grog tonight and fire of the cannons in memory of our recently departed Mr. Smee. Three cheers for the newly promoted Mr. Smee!”

The redheaded former second mate also formerly known as Mr. Gibson ducked his head in embarrassment for a second as the crew let off three loud huzzah’s.

“Now, Mr. Smee, go get me my priest,” said Captain Lucasi with grim finality.

“Aye, aye , cap’n,” replied the redheaded Mr. Smee. His large handlebar mustache seemed to take on a life of his own as he began yelling for specific members of the crew to step forward and assist with the extraction.

Captain Lucasi stepped towards the defeated captain. “Captain Rodgers, if you’ll lead the way to your cabin, we can begin divesting you of your charts and letters of credit.”

With the knowledge that the pirate captain knew who he was, Captain Rodgers knew that his fate was sealed. Now, all that he could do was hope to ingratiate himself enough with his captor to ensure the best outcome for his crew.

The two were halfway through Captain Rodger’s sea chest when there was a knock on the cabin door.

“Enter,” said Lucasi.

In came Mr. Smee, two large, broad shouldered pirates that could have been twins, and a beaten and bloody priest in loose fitting blue robes.

“Ah, I’ve been hunting you for quite some time, your excellency,” said Lucasi. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to make your acquaintance.”

“Abomination!” exclaimed the priest. “The Church of Thresh knows what you are. You are anathema. You shall burn in the fires of Harvan’s lowest hell for what you have done.” The priest attempted to stand and look down his nose at the men surrounding him, but his display of righteous indignation was somewhat diminished by the fact that he could not stand straight and his once pristine robes were torn and bloody. “All of those that assist you with your abhorrent practices are likewise doomed to hell with you.”

“It amazes me how the churches were able to convince the majority of the population to fall in line by spouting nonsense about heaven and hell. The subjugation of demonologists and summoners no doubt helped, but there are significant reputable texts available for any to read that clarify the true purpose of both.”

The priest’s eyes squinted and he opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off. “[Silence],” stated Lucasi. A ring on his right hand glowed and no sound came from the mouth of the priest. “It’s time to end this part of my quest, six decades I’ve chased you and I’ll not get into a debate about the state of the human soul after death. Unfortunately for you, your soul will not be moving on to anything,” said Lucasi. He stepped forward and reached into a shoulder sheath. From it he pulled a wickedly curved dagger made of obsidian. There was no hilt, just leather wrapped around the base to make a handle. There was a discernible malicious presence radiating from the dagger once it was removed from the sheath.

“What makes a [High Priest] so special,” said Lucasi. As he stepped forward, shadows seemed to gather around his face and all that anybody in the room could see was the gleam of his teeth as he smiled. “Is that, in order to channel the amount of power needed to affect the world with his miracles, the god has to place a piece of his divine spark into the [High Priest]. A piece of a god’s soul is housed in that pathetic shell of flesh.”

Lucasi took another step forward and was now standing so close to the priest that the priest could feel the warmth of the pirate’s breath on his cheeks. Still nobody in the room could quite make out the pirate captain’s face. His voice had become soft and the sinister presence was so powerful that there was a puddle on the ground below the priest’s feet.

Without another word, Lucasi plunged the curved blade into the priest’s stomach. With a grunt of effort, he ripped the dulled upper aspect of the blade through the skin and muscle and out came the priest’s entrails, followed shortly by the contents of his stomach. Bile, blood, and shit covered the floor, but [The Butcher] wasn’t done. Through the diaphragm the dagger blade went. The priest’s face was locked in a rictus of agony and his mouth was open. He was trying to scream. He was struggling to get even a whisper of sound out. But the spell that silenced him was still in effect, and no sound could be heard from the priest’s mouth. The two brutes holding the priest upright never flinched, they had seen exactly why their captain was called [The Butcher], and they knew why they were there. Captain Rodgers was in the corner vomiting and praying to whichever god he worshipped.

As the tip of the dagger pierced into the pleural space and through the ventricle of the priest’s heart, there was a flash. With a sudden peal of thunder that deafened all that were in the cabin, Lucasi was thrown against the cabin wall. The two pirates holding the priest were thrown opposite and the priest himself exploded in a shower of gore. Every surface in the once pristine captain’s cabin was covered in blood. Where the priest was previously standing was a pool of shit and piss. In Captain Lucasi’s hand was the obsidian dagger. It now glowed with a bright red light, making the cabin appear surreal. The malevolence felt previously was there still, but it was subdued. It was almost like a killer hound that had been fed. It could still rend and tear, but there was no need to do so just yet.

Lucasi stood and sheathed the wicked dagger. Without another word he stepped over to the captain who was curled in a ball in the corner. “I believe we were just about to transfer those bank notes from the Bank of D’Vrise. If you don’t mind, I would like to finish up here and head back to the Free Isles,” he said. All trace of the vicious, bloodthirsty killer from before was gone and instead what the survivors of the explosion saw was the erudite captain who blithely offered to feed his [Bard] a generous breakfast before throwing him overboard. At his feet, Captain Rodgers puked again and passed out in his own vomit. The dream faded to black and Lucas was able to enter the land of true dreams for a brief respite from the horrors that he had just witnessed.