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[color=1E90FF][b]Interactions[/b]: Marciano[@Alivefalling][/color]
[color=1E90FF][b]Time[/b]: 1 pm[/color]
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[hider=The Prisoner]One last prize, that was what the captain had said.

One final attempt at riches on the high seas, that was all he had asked for. Win or lose, they would all go home and lead the lives of honest landsmen till their final days. Never again would their fates and fortunes be left in the hands of something as capricious as the open sea. Never again would they have to toil with the spectre of capture and death haunting them at every juncture. No more weevil-infested biscuits; no more salted meat that was more mineral than food. Just quiet, peaceful lives for men who have had more than their fill of blood and adventure.

At least, that was what the captain had promised. In hindsight, Sean realised that he’d been a fool to trust the crafty old man. Well into his fourth decade and looking easily twice that age, Sean had sailed with the [i]Celestine[/i] since the day she turned pirate. In all that time, he could count the number of promises kept by her captain on one hand. Though if Sean had to be fair, none of that was because the captain was a liar, but rather, because lady fortune simply didn’t seem to like them all that much.

And it was more like than not because of that very same poor luck that Sean found himself here, locked in the brig of his former ship alongside with what remained of his former crewmates. Damp, musty air laden with the stench of days-unwashed bodies filled his nose with each breath. Gnarled and uneven wood pressed into his back and head as he struggled in vain to find a comfortable position to sit. 

A stifled, halting sob escaped one of the younger men. “Stop that,” Sean snapped and leaned the back of head against the hull with a sigh. Despair was like a disease to men like them. Let one person succumb to it and soon everyone would be begging on death’s door for entry. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. He needed every last one of them fit and ready if they ever hoped to get out of here. “Crying won’t be getting us anywhere.”

“He’s right. We’re alive, aye?” Someone else piped up, much to Sean’s relief. “That’s better than what–”

“You’ve said enough. Be quiet.” Sean interjected quickly. No one needed a reminder as to the fates of the unfortunate few who had been singled-out by their former victims. He doubted he’d ever forget the pitiful pleas for mercy each man bellowed at the top of their lungs just before they were unceremoniously thrown overboard and dragged along the length of [i]Celestine[/i]. Worse still was the lone survivor, who with his dying breath begged for a quick death even as Sean and the rest of his fellows were forced at musket-point to lash him to a raft, then push him out into the open sea. 

Sean squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to force those memories from his mind. Now was not the time for him to be reminiscing about such dark things. He needed to keep his spirits up and his mind sharp if he wanted to escape. He drew in a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Where could they go from here?

Everything was fine, for now. They were fed – not well, but enough to put strength in their muscles – and were allowed to go on deck to work on repairing [i]Celestine[/i]. More than a few of his fellows wanted to seize the chance and use the tools given to them to attempt an armed breakout, but Sean had managed to cool those hot-blooded individuals. It was suicide, he had told them. They were under guard for the most part by armed sailors, and even if they managed to jump into the harbour, where could they go? They were in Sorian; wherever they swam to would likely end with them in shackles or worse. 

No, Sean knew they needed to play the long game. These foreigners likely [i]needed[/i] them to not only fix up the ship, but also to navigate these waters. They wouldn’t have put prisoners to work, otherwise. As long as Sean and his fellows could prove their worth, they would be kept alive. That was the first step in the right direction. The next would be to curry some favour with their captors, at least until they were given a greater degree of freedom and assigned more tasks. After that, it would simply be a matter of waiting until the right time to simply either sail away with the [i]Celestine[/i] or make a run for it and disappear into the dark streets of Sorian’s poorer quarters. 

The squeak of rusted metal pulled Sean from his thoughts. Dented and pitted bars rattled as the cell door was pulled open by an armed and armoured guard. “On your feet, boys,” Sean said with a grunt as he pushed himself up from the floor. “Looks like they’ve got more work for us. Let’s give them no trouble now, aye?” A scattering of muttered acknowledgements – some more disgruntled than others – was his fellows’ response. 

He knew it was a hard thing for them to do, to bite their tongue and hold their anger, and so he waited until everyone else had left before stepping out of the cell himself. That they weren’t shackled or restrained in any way, shape, or form was a great boon for his plans, and the last thing he needed was for a hot-head to start something and get them all clapped in irons. 

They trudged in a single file up the steep steps leading up to the main deck, escorted by a pair of heavily armed guards. One led the way, and the other marched close to Sean’s heels. Judging by the position of the sun, Sean surmised that not much time had passed since they had been corralled back to their cell. A deep frown came over his face. Why then, had they been ordered to go below decks? Surely it would’ve been more efficient to simply let them carry on with their work.

[color=1E90FF][i]“Ah, Hai-shuun dahnshi. Saidahkehn tiaka jai?”[/i][/color] Sean recognised that voice. It was one he had learned to both fear and revile in equal measure. Leaning over and looking past the shoulders of the men in front of him, he caught sight of the last man he wanted to see. Youthful, dark-eyed, and always with that damnable smile on his face, it was the captain of the ship that had so utterly devastated [i]Celestine[/i] during that fateful morning in the mist. Sean had watched him cut a swathe through his ship’s crew with his twin blades with nary any effort, and sentence three men to death with as much gravity as one might have when discussing the weather. 

Suffice to say, Sean felt his stomach sink. That man’s presence couldn’t mean anything good for Sean and his fellow prisoners. Still, he forced himself to remain optimistic. As long as they were allowed to continue working on the ship and retain what little freedom they had, his plans could remain as they were. 

[i]“Akah, maksashi.”[/i] The voice that replied to the captain was a more welcome one. Sean knew him only as the engineer or carpenter of their captors’ ship, but he was a decent enough man to work under. True, he worked them hard, but not any harder than his own men, and he was less liberal with the lash than what Sean had expected. Even so, he wasn’t a man to be crossed. From what Sean had heard from those who had witnessed him fight during the boarding action, this carpenter was just as vicious and lethal a fighter as his captain.

As was the rest of the foreign crew, for that matter. Sean doubted any of them had yet to see their fourth or even third decades, but they fought like veterans of countless battles. Even if the [i]Celestine[/i] had twice the crew she had during the fight, Sean doubted they would’ve been able to come out victorious. 

The guard behind him gave Sean a hard shove with his musket, almost sending him sprawling to the deck and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips. “Alright, no need for that,” Sean grumbled beneath his breath as he found his footing and, taking that sudden push as a sign, started moving forward with the rest of his fellow prisoners. Just what was going on here? This all felt strange, almost foreboding. What was going on that needed that other captain’s presence? Surely it wasn’t something serious; the man didn’t seem to be in much of a bother.

Then, Sean caught sight of the Caesonians waiting for him, and his heart crashed through the bottom of his stomach and into the depths of his bowels. His mouth went dry, and his mind raced even as his body continued moving on its own. Whatever plans he had, whatever prospects he had of escape, disappeared in an instant. He had no illusions as to where they would be going, and what would happen to them. If they were lucky, a quick death at the end of a noose awaited them. If not…Well, Sean had heard stories. He just wished that he never had to find out first-hand if they were true or not. Regardless, whatever hopes they had of escaping vanished in that one instant.

One last prize, his captain had said. If Sean had the mind to, he would’ve laughed. If only someone had told them that they were the prize in question.[/hider]
–

Sjan-dehk stood to one side as the prisoners filed past him. Though unshackled, none of them made a bid for freedom as he had expected. Perhaps the last few days of backbreaking work had thoroughly broken their will, or perhaps they were still unaware of their fates. Either way, it didn’t matter. It made things that little bit easier for him, and that was all Sjan-dehk cared about. Besides, it wouldn’t look good on him or his crew if a troublemaker decided to cause a scene in front of their Caesonian guests. 

“Damn, I forgot to tell the guards to shackle them.” Standing beside him, Hai-shuun clicked his tongue and folded his arms.

A grin flashed across Sjan-dehk’s lips. [color=1E90FF]“Too late for that, now. Next time, eh?”[/color] As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter whether the prisoners were restrained or not. Where could they go? They were practically surrounded on all sides by armed men, and the only routes open to them were the harbour or the pier. Any attempt to escape now would be tantamount to suicide. 

The last man to pass Sjan-dehk was a grey-bearded elder with a vacant look in his eyes. His mouth hung open, as if trying to say something but unable to form the words in his throat. Be it fear or trepidation, something or other caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably. Sjan-dehk arched his brow as he watched the man. Whatever these Caesonians did to their prisoners must be quite something. He couldn’t recall any prisoner reacting in such a manner even after he had two of their own keelhauled to death and the third sentenced to a slow death on the open seas. 

[color=1E90FF][i]“Do not be sad,”[/i][/color] he called out after the elderly man. [color=1E90FF][i]“We send you home. Good, no?”[/i][/color]

The man didn’t turn back to look at him.

Sjan-dehk’s crew lined the prisoners up in front of the two Caesonians and stepped a fair distance back with hands on muskets, axe handles, or sword hilts. If the prisoners so much as twitched in a suspicious manner, Sjan-dehk had no doubts that they would be cut down in mere moments. Perhaps they were being overly-cautious, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. He nodded his thanks to his men and walked around the prisoners towards the man who had asked about the prisoners.

[color=1E90FF][i]“They are here.”[/i][/color] He stepped to one side and gestured to the line men. Dishevelled and filthy, they looked as if they were one day away from being outright diseased. Yet, they still looked robust, strong, and more than capable of hard labour. Sjan-dehk knew that last one for a fact. [color=1E90FF][i]“They are your…People, yes? So we give back to you.”[/i][/color] He paused for a moment. To call them a gift wouldn’t be accurate; as he had said, they were simply being returned to Caesonia to be tried under Caesonian law. Most of them, at least. At the same time, Sjan-dehk wasn’t quite sure how best to put that into words the two men could understand.

And so, he just nodded and said, [color=1E90FF][i]“Yes, gifts.”[/i][/color]