The lookout's shout echoed down from the crow's nest, fear in his voice. "Enemy ship off the port side, closing fast!" From out of the smog, a large galley with three tiers of oars was closing with them fast; their intent to ram was obvious. A steady beat of a drum and the voice of the coxwain could be heard as they closed the distance. A deep voice yelled, "Ramming Speed!". The Black Trireme was filled with charred sailors on its topdeck while the living toiled at the oars. The screams of the damned echoed over smoke to Dauntless.

Not waiting for orders, one sailor began ringing a large alarm bell, and two mates sprinted below decks to alert the crew.

Cavendishe's voice rang out, amplified by his aura, reaching every corner of the ship. "Brace for Impact! Shields up!"

Woodrat and Ozzy moved to where Cavendish was at the wheel of his ship. Only the three captains on late watch were awake, Shively and the others getting what sleep they could before their next shift on deck. But they were the three with the strongest shields and auras. As the Black Ship sped toward Dauntless, they raised their defenses. Woodrat, Cavendish, and Ozzy merged their shields and layered their auras on top. Without the shields, the ram of the trireme would have staved in the hull of Dauntless, and only a miracle would have saved her from sinking. Even with the shields, a large amount of damage was done. Planks were cracked and broken, and seams were sprung. The great ram on the front of the galley was designed to shatter smaller ships and sink larger ones. It was rare for anything to survive a full-speed ram, and only the size of Dauntless and the strong shielding of her Captains saved her.

As the ships collided, a half-dozen men fell from the rigging and lay injured or dead on the deck. The large ship started to take on smoke in its lower compartments as the repair crews ran to set up pumps, and wood wrights strived to plug the leak. The ram had entered a full yard into its victim, holding her tight and not letting Dauntless get underway.

The trireme was pulled tight to Dauntless as dozens of hooked boarding chains were thrown at the ship, the hooks digging into the wood of the deck. Charred sailors grasped the chains and began to climb, screaming as they came and eyes blazing. Cavendish was shouting orders. "We have boarders! Cut the chains and send them back to hell!" The crew began to run to the rail, some armed with large axes designed to cut through the boarding chains. The second mate, a large and sturdy man with a STR of 15, brought his ax down hard on a chain, expecting it to snap. His blow bent the link but didn't break it. The other sailors were having even more trouble. "Stout chains here, Captain! We aren't stopping them before they get up!"

Ozzy and Woodrat ran to the rail. Woodrat brought his flaming sword down on a chain. The links shattered, and a scream went up from the trireme as the charred sailor holding it turned to ashes as well as the chain. Woodrat yelled at the stunned sailors. "Keep them from getting over the rail unless you want to share their fate!" His aura blazed brightly, and the men packed the rail, weapons ready, their fear momentarily replaced by determination. Woodrat continued removing the boarding chains, each stroke shattering a thick chain and each broken chain accompanied by a scream from below.

Ozzy had moved to the side of the battle and stepped over the rail, one hand holding tight and one foot on the edge of the deck. Some of the charred paused in their climb to look at him before continuing upward. The Butcher got as close as he could, leaning out from the rail, and breathed on them. A long column of fire erupted from his lungs, bathing the charred sailors. They were as tough as the chains they were climbing, taking far more heat to destroy than the charred on the Sargasso. Even so, the Butcher destroyed fifty charred as they climbed, sending their ashes tumbling down and clearing the chains. More of the endless horde started to climb, but the respite had given time for the defenders to form a tight wall of men.

Two chains wrapped around his legs as he tried to climb the rail. With his strength, he ignored them and dragged their owners with him as he returned to the other side. Grabbing both chains in his hands, he broke them easily, two more screams echoing up from the trireme. From the lower decks of the galley came more charred carrying a seemingly endless supply of dull, black boarding chains.

Captain Shively and the first mate joined the line, organizing the sailors and getting the best fighters to the front. Some brought long gaffs that reached down to push and stab at the climbers. Woodrat continued to cut the boarding chains but paused to catch his breath after destroying two dozen. As fast as he cut them, more were being thrown. Some were knocked aside before their hooks could bite into the wood. Others caught on the defenders, and two sailors were pulled to their doom in the mob below.

In the top gun deck, hatches were opened, and ballistae were pushed forward. Only a few guns fore and aft were deployed, the sailors fearful of the undead entering the ship through the ones in the middle. Ballistae bolts scythed into the mob, destroying a half dozen with every bolt. Ozzy heard sailors yelling commands as they prepared to bring more machines up to the main deck, but that was a slow process.

On the black ship, thousands of charred crowded on deck screaming and waiting their turn to fight or be destroyed. On the partial deck at the ship's rear, a large man with burning hair watched the fight but gave no orders and took no part. Ozzy saw him, and it seemed as if their gazes met across the distance, and he suddenly felt smaller. Woodrat was standing beside him. "I believe I've heard a story of a ship like this and a renegade priest leading an army of the dead. Mind you, there could be more than one, but I think you've found your way home."

"Or a horrible death. That asshole scared the hell out of me, just with a glance."

Woodrat nodded. "The same. I liked the plan of begging for a favor from the Queens better. Say the word, and we'll sail away on the Splinter. Not very heroic, but maybe smarter if things go badly. Being one of the last people to get off of a sinking ship was horrible; all three times that it happened to me. We'll fight as long as possible, but if I'm going down with a ship, it will be Splinter."

Ozzy looked at the thousands of undead, who hadn't overwhelmed the Dauntless only because they were trying to climb aboard only in one part of the ship. If Blackgut, for that was who that must be, started giving orders, they were in bad trouble. "This battle looks to be a marathon and not a quick action. We can hold them off if they only attack along that limited front. But I think it will go badly, sooner or later."

Derreck yelled at them from the crow's nest of the Splinter. "Ware boarders on your starboard side. They're swimming and climbing!"

"Ok, make that sooner."

Ozzy and Woodrat ran to the other side of the ship, where a line of sailors was forming at the rail. Charred were in the smoke below them, so thick that some were standing on the others and throwing boarding chains. Nearby, half a dozen were being repelled from Splinter. Mariah was at the helm, moving the ship. Woodrat yelled to her. "Keep them off you, but stay near if you can; we may need a ride soon." She flipped him a quick salute, and Splinter picked up speed, moving away from Dauntless to avoid the swimming charred.

There were far fewer charred here than on the port side. Ozzy and Woodrat cut the boarding chains to discourage boarders. Then Ozzy tied the Trammelian Chain to the rail and jumped halfway to the smoke, exhaling another gout of fire into the closely packed charred. These were lesser creatures than the ones leading the boarding party. They overheated and shattered into ashes, leaving this side clear. As he returned to the deck, he saw that Cavendish was organizing fighters at the ship's bow while another group guarded the stern. Woodrat picked a likely sailor from the group around them. "You're in charge here. Knock them off or yell for help." He and Ozzy ran to the port side and the main boarding action, leaving the stunned sailor to take the congratulations of his shipmates.

Congratulations! Captain Woodrat thinks you'll make a fine Mate. Welcome to Level 6, but you'll be fighting to keep the promotion and your life!

The newly promoted mate organized his crew into a solid line, and they guarded the port side against boarders.

Ozzy looked down on the Black Galley and its packed horde. Just one of those of Death Mist would make short work of them. Too bad he had none. Or was that a good thing? The chances of a globe breaking and destroying Splinter wasn't something anyone had wanted to chance. Butterbelly was in the center of the line now. As Splinter had moved away from the fight, the firewalker had run across the waves, sinking slightly into the cooled smoke, but his internal fires kept him on the surface. A sailor at the bow had lowered a chain for him to climb aboard. Ozzy moved up next to him, the two commanding the center third of the battle where the fight was the thickest.

Butterbelly was swinging Goatbristle and Mjorlbotte the Overflowing. The huge pot crushed skulls, and the brush broke bones and knocked the undead from the chains. Sometimes the firewalker would set his brush aside and pour melted bear fat over dozens of charred who screamed and burned from the potency of the spices. Ozzy would breathe a small plume of fire and ignite the fat. The firewalker laughed. "I have such a bad thought, but what does Bear-Braised Overcooked Human taste like? I have cousins in Nifelheim who wouldn't hesitate to make a meal of them, but I think I'd rather not find out. I might like the taste."

Ozzy's flensing hatchets moved up and down in a never-ending pattern, killing and killing again. Most of the charred were lunging for him with claws and teeth, but some just bowed their heads in relief, accepting their final death. And still, they came. There seemed to be no end to them. The ballistae on the top deck and the gun deck fired continuously, killing hundreds of charred until the galley bristled like a porcupine. Twice more assaults came from the sea, tying up men and adding casualties. Dauntless had begun with a crew of hundreds, but each death brought them one step closing to losing the battle. Men were running low on heat and smoke, and the aura of the Captains was beginning to dim.

Ozzy kept fighting. He was losing heat slowly, but his furnace was so huge that it didn't matter. Woodrat, however, was getting more worried. "This isn't going to work. If that's truly a ship of the dead, there could be a hundred thousand charred below decks. Blackgut is just sitting and watching, unworried. I think it's time for a barrel of rum."

Butterbelly nodded. "Yes, I'm thirsty." Ozzy thought Woodrat meant something else. "Let's make it two barrels. I dumped a scoop of heat berries into two barrels of the strongest rotgut, and marked it 'Medicine.'"

Woodrat ran to get two strong sailors to retrieve those barrels and bring them on deck. Butterbelly and Ozzy cleared the chains with burning bear grease, and Ozzy took a break from the front lines. Woodrat was trying to force heat into the barrels. Ozzy saw what he was doing. "Hold off, and save your heat. I can move it around easier and have an idea. He put a keg on his shoulder and moved until he was below the main sail. He reached up and pulled heat from it. It was slow at first. Sails were created to store heat, not release it, but slowly, the heat came faster and faster. Ozzy stopped when he had stolen ten thousand heat from the sail, and the keg was starting to glow and make popping noises.

"Bombs Away!" He threw the fifty-gallon barrel of heat-infused rum onto the center of the trireme and watched it explode, burning hundreds of charred in the explosion and setting more on fire. A minute later, as the flames died down, stamped out by the horde of undead coming from below, he threw the second barrel. Again it exploded, destroying countless charred. The boarding chains were clear with the stream of adversaries interrupted. Woodrat was laughing and crying. "I can't believe we are throwing away good alcohol, but if we're dead, we can't drink it. Bring more rum!"